


A Little Bit Scandalous

by torviironside



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-07-24 10:28:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7504789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torviironside/pseuds/torviironside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James "Bucky" Barnes becomes an Avenger. SHIELD Agent Gemma Bane has passed the rigorous tests conducted to become The Winter Soldier's "escort" off the field and "partner" on the field, tasked with keeping tabs on him and making sure that he and the people around him are safe. She does not expect the charm of the 1940's soldier. Neither does she expect to fall in love. Fraternization is strictly against the rules - and for good reason, but rules were meant to be broken and if there's one thing Gemma's certain of it's that Bucky is worth the risk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by a random 9pm thought I had (and posted about on Tumblr) regarding Bucky getting a cat and naming it Steve. Honestly, I've been considering writing a Bucky x OC fanfiction for a couple of weeks now but decided to take the imagine I came up with and sort of ...run with it. Hopefully y'all like it! :-) (Ps. I'm so sorry the summary sucks. I'm horrible at writing them). Also, I've been doing research on Bucky's cybernetic arm to try to implement it as "realistically" as I can. I also haven't seen Civil War (yet) so as a warning this fanfiction will probably not fall in line with it. It's AU - so let's play! ;D All characters belong to Marvel except for Gemma and secondary originals. :p The rating is for later chapters but right now it's pretty PG-13ish.

“STEVE!” My heart jumped in my throat as The Winter – no, I reminded myself, _Bucky_ 's voice could be heard through the thick, metal apartment door as I slid my access card through the card reader, my palm flat on the door as I waited for Friday to grant me access to Barnes' apartment. The images that flooded my mind were horrible: that Bucky wasn't Bucky but Winter and that any second I would hear the Captain's body being thrown out the fiftieth floor of Stark Tower. Cap was powerful but Winter ... _Bucky_ he was more-so. As I had been briefed when given Agent Barnes as my assignment that he didn't always wear the vibranium arm. It came as some surprise that it was detachable but at home, in the safety of Stark Tower and with the other Avengers perhaps it gave him some semblance of reality. I'd been briefed and trained for this. I knew he suffered with PTSD, I knew that his memory was subjective at best. I knew that he was a war hero and that he was apart of the Howling Commandos in World War II. I knew that he kept notebooks and wrote down things that he remembered in them so that he could read them, so that he would not forget. I knew that HYDRA turned him into an experiment, and I know that they tormented and tortured him. I knew that Steve and him were childhood best friends – both super soldiers and men out of time.

Yet, I didn't know what to expect when the door hissed and slid open and I jumped over the threshold as the door slid closed and locked behind me. In Bucky's flesh arm – for he had removed his vibranium arm for the moment – was cradled a small sandy colored cat, it's eyes closing as it rubbed the top of it's head against Bucky's stubble adorned jaw with clear affection, it's loud purrs filling the silence between me and Bucky. Bucky stared for a moment and then he broke out in a nervous smile, exposing his white teeth, sheepish.

So, not Winter then, I suspected.

I blinked at the scene before me, trying to make sense of it.

“Hey doll,” He greeted me, breaking the purr filled silence. _Doll_. A term of endearment that was from a bygone era, and though it was unprofessional to allow him to call me such it seemed like such a natural thing that I didn't bother rising a complaint against it. I'd seen the videos of him, of what he'd done as Winter ...I knew full well what he was capable of; and yet I'd seen clips of Bucky back in the 40's and this...this man before me reminded me most of him.

“I heard yelling.” I stated, a bit awkwardly.

This was out first face to face interaction with one another. Our agent-to-agent compatibility had been tested through numerous video chats and phone conversations, to ensure that we could mesh and that we would not strike off one another. Bucky was understandably defensive and cautious and there were many agents that he didn't like, and vice versa, and others that were too terrified of him.

Bucky's cheeks appeared to flush slightly at his cheekbones but he held the cat which looked delicate in his large hand, holding the cat up to his face.

“Hi there doll, I'm Steve the cat.” Bucky's index finger moved under the patient cat's paw and spoke in a falsetto voice as if the cat were talking, his blue eyes bright and stunning even across the distance we stood from each other. I fought the smile that threatened to spread across my lips. Oh, he was charming. Steve's patience wore out and the cat let out a loud meow and wiggled in Bucky's grip.

“You named your cat Steve?” I asked him, amused, watching as he bent down to set the cat gently down upon the cream carpeted floor where it twitched it's tail, stretched, and rubbed against Bucky's legs when the Avenger stood and then scuttled off into the kitchen, the little bell on his red collar jingling.

I turned my attention back to Bucky as he took a few steps closer to me. Something seized tight in my chest but I wasn't so sure it was fear. He was taller than me even in his bare feet. He wore a pair of black pajama bottoms and a sheer light grey tee-shirt. His chest was broad, powerful, and it sort of reminded me of the Captain's.

“Well, he reminds me of Steve. He's small, he's a punk, he never listens to me and always does what I tell him not to do anyway.” A soft chuckle left Bucky's lips and was joined in my much more feminine laugh. I hid my mouth behind the Ipad I clutched, knowing that I shouldn't have found Bucky's thoughts of Steve so amusing.

“Mr. Rogers isn't small.” I pointed out to Bucky coyly, teasing ever so slightly.

“Well, he was, a long time before you knew him. Really scrappy too. Used to pick fights with bullies bigger than him and couldn't talk to women to save his life.” The smile that Bucky gave me made me wonder how many hearts that smile had broken, simply because it was one of those smiles. It was beautiful but you knew that it could be devastating if you allowed it to be.

“I don't think he got much better on the last one,” I lowered my voice to a playfully conspiring tone, leaning in towards Bucky slightly though it made no difference. Friday had constant audio and video surveillance on Bucky's apartments, except his bathroom and bedroom giving the man some measure of privacy and to assure him that Stark trusted him. Well, as much as Stark trusted anyone.

Bucky didn't ask how I knew that, simply winked and smirked. “That's his loss then,” and rocked back on his heels before he held out his single arm to me. It took me a second to realize that I was meant to place my hand in his, unaccustomed to 40's gestures. I complied, unable to fight the soft flush that rose to my cheeks when his fingers gently curled beneath my own and brought my hand up to his lips to place a small, gentlemanly kiss on the back of my hand.

This was _such_ a bad idea.

Bucky and I got along, very well, actually. Our phone conversations were long, and our monitored and assessed video chats were longer. They had chosen me to be his “escort” and “partner” because he had warmed up to me, because for reasons unknown to everyone he trusted me. There had been other potential agents, more qualified agents that had more training in dealing with rogue HYDRA agents and knowing how to treat and avoid PTSD triggers than me.

“You're so much prettier in real life, Miss Bane.” My cheeks flushed a deeper red at his compliment, clutching the ipad with my free hand tighter to my chest. I wasn't used to receiving many of those in my life and aside from letting out the standard words of gratitude in a low mumble, I was inherently not sure what to do with it aside from accepting it modestly.

“What was that, doll? You know I'm almost a hundred years old. You've got to speak up.” Bucky teased and my cheeks flushed a deep red, growing warm with heat. I pursed my lips and squinted at him, watching at the corners of his eyes crinkled with laughter as I wrenched my hand out of his and punched him in the arm. There was nothing old, weak or feeble about his arm which despite being flesh likely hurt me more than it hurt him. This was the first time SHEILD had let us lose with one another but it felt like we were old friends to me. We'd been talking for months prior to this day, so it wasn't completely strange.

Bucky's eyes flashed with mischief for a moment as he smirked and gestured to the kitchen with his hand. “I made breakfast, if you want any.”

“You never mentioned that you could cook Mr. Barnes.” I raised my eyebrow, impressed.

“You never asked,” He replied, cheekily, gesturing for me to take a seat at one of the bar stools along the island as he moved behind it and fixed two plates of scrambled eggs, toast and bacon, setting a plate down in front of me first before he set a plate for himself before the empty stool beside the one I'd claimed. I set my ipad to the side. “And I'm pretty sure I asked you to call me Bucky at least a thousand times over the past couple of months.”

“Alright, Bucky,” I saw out of the corner of my eye as he gave a sage nod before he scooped a fork full of eggs in his mouth. I copied him, and was actually surprised that they were pretty good, all things considered. “These eggs are great.” I complimented. They had melted cheese mixed with in them and a hint of what I thought might have been paprika.

“I used to cook this for my younger siblings.” He told me and my breath caught in my throat as he set his fork down he with a quick clatter, grabbed the notebook he had on the counter, grasped the pen and scribbled down the memory before he lost it. I hated to interrupt him when he was in the process of remembering something but I was curious, astutely so.

“How many siblings did you have?”I asked when he finished scribbling.

“Three. I was the eldest of four.” He scribbled that down before he set the pen into the spine of the open notebook and pushed it off to the side.

“So do you actually like them or are you just saying that because you don't want to hurt my feelings?” He looked at me then, his expression telling me that he was just teasing me.

“No, no they're really good, Bucky. Seriously.” He smiled at me around another fork full of eggs. We ate in silence then, broken only when Steve the cat jumped up in my lap, startling me.

“Steve,” Bucky's tone was disapproving as he chided the feline. “Let Miss Bane eat in peace. She's our guest so shoo.” Bucky pointed to the floor but Steve blinked at him, let out a small chirp of a meow and completely ignored him causing me to giggle and Bucky to roll his eyes and grumble something about Steve under his breath but I wasn't sure if he was referring to his cat or the Captain which somehow made it only that much more amusing.

“You can call me Gemma, by the way,” I told Bucky as I looked up from Steve whom had been enjoying me scratching the fur under his chin lightly. “since we're not sticking to SHIELD regulations and being so informal.” I teased. “Today's a free day, is there anything in particular you wanted to do?”

Bucky hesitated for a second. “Well, I need some more plums,” He told me sheepishly.

“You sure do like your plums don't you?” I teased him, having never broached the subject of why they were a staple of his diet.

“Hey, plums are _good_ ,” Bucky bumped his knee against mine before he held his finger out to Steve who sniffed it and allowed Bucky to gently stroke the fur atop his head with it. “and they help with your memory.” He added quietly, peeking a glimpse at me.

“So the market, anything else?” I asked him.

“I'm not sure yet,” Bucky stood when I finished and took my plate, and went over to the sink to hand wash them and the dishes he'd used to make breakfast.

“Well we've got all day and a 10 pm curfew so we've got plenty of time,” but I stood as he turned on the water. “Here, I'll wash the dishes for you, you go get dressed.”

“Are you sure, doll?”

“You were kind enough to make breakfast so I think I can return the favor by washing the dishes for you.” I told him, giving him a hip bump and shooing him away. I felt Steve the cat rub against my legs before he padded after Bucky, the jingle of his collar bell quick as he ran to catch up with the super soldier.

I fell into the methodical routine of washing the dishes, arranging them to dry on the drying, taking a startled step back when my hip bumped into a something hard and metal and beeped as I leaned against the counter. A sleek, stainless steel dishwasher with a touch screen. I opened the door and squinted at it and then looked up at the dishes I had just cleaned, turning quickly to look at Bucky as he cleared his throat. He stood at the island, his hands clasped behind his back in a very military-esque posture. He'd put his vibratium arm on and idly I wondered if it was easy for him to do, or if it was painful.

“You know that Stark's got the highest ended, most expensive amenities in here, right?” I watched as Bucky's brows furrowed for a moment. “You don't have to wash your dishes by hand, Bucky. You've got a high powered dishwasher,” I took a step to the side and gestured to it feeling a lot like Vanna White. “Ta-da!”

Bucky laughed and shook his head, some of his chestnut brown hair escaping from behind his ears. He was quick to tuck them back, his vibratium arm whirring and _shinking_ as the plates re-calibrated and slid into position. It was fascinating to watch and suddenly I wanted to watch his arm work from up close. It was such a complex and amazing piece of technology.

“I never had a dishwasher before, I've heard of them, 'course; but they were only a luxury item for the wealthy. It was something that people like me would only see at Stark's Expo, doll.” He reminded me patiently.

“Oh,” I drew in a breath feeling awkward. “I'm sorry I- ha, I grew up with modern technology so it's hard for me to remember that there were things you didn't have in the 40's.” I shifted my hips to lean back against the counter, stationing my hands on either side of the counter behind me.

“It's alright, doll,” He flashed me another one of those heartbreaker smiles.

“Is it overwhelming?” I asked softly, fixing him in my gaze.

“Sometimes,” He admitted just as soft.

“Sometimes I wish I could go back in time, experience the era you and Steve came from.” I admitted with a soft sigh.

“The food's better in your century. The beds are softer. No Polio. The technology is just...it's mind-blowing.” As he said it he subconsciously flexed his vibratium arm, but the arm was advanced for it's time, though as I understood it Stark had given it some upgrades.

“I know,” I said and canted my head thoughtfully at him. “If you could go back would you?”

“I don't know,” His expression darkened.

“I didn't mean...I meant like if things wouldn't have happened the way they did. I mean...if you could go home-”

“This is my home now, Gemma.”

“Well I know, I meant, I mean – was there...was there anyone y'know waiting for you? A girlfriend or a- a wife?” I didn't have access to all of his records. I knew only what was need to know. The rest Fury told me I would have to ask Bucky himself if I dared to. He wasn't Steve and I'd been warned to be careful.

His expression changed and I felt his eyes bear into me. “No, no I wasn't going steady with anyone.” Bucky spoke, giving his throat a small clear again. A term to call dating that I hadn't heard since my pap's stories of how he courted my grandmother. Well, this was awkward. I wasn't sure what had made me ask that particular question other than I tended to ramble and when I rambled I couldn't always stop words from tumbling out of my mouth.

“Ok, well, we should probably go down to the market before it gets too busy.” I cleared my throat, pushing off of the counter, telling myself I would show him how to operate his dishwasher later so the poor man didn't have to continue doing his dishes by hand. Though the market was a distraction from our conversation that felt too intimate there was also truth to my desire to get him down there before the crowds became too bad. The last thing I need was to have something trigger him and for him to go Winter Soldier on the people of New York. I was trained in combat, in hand to hand and firearm but he could over power me in a split second and crush my windpipe in the next. I would be helpless to stop him. Hell, there had been a few times when Winter had nearly killed Cap. I knew he had a series of activation words that had to be said in chronological order in Russian to activate the Soldier but I was not sure if an episode of PTSD would be enough to do it or not.

Bucky followed silently after me, muttering a goodbye to Steve the cat before the door shut behind him and locked into place. I pressed the button to call for the elevator and when it opened up to us we got in. Bucky leaned over and pressed the button for Stark Tower's lobby and the doors slid shut and the elevator began it's descent.

“What about you doll?” He asked breaking the silence and confusing me in the process. I looked at him with a quizzical rise of my brow. “Are you going to steady with anyone?” I studied him for a moment, holding his bright blue gaze longer than was probably socially acceptable.

“No, there's no one.”

“A pretty gal like you, doll? I don't believe it.”

“Men are a lot different in this era, Bucky,” I told him a bit sharper than I meant to, biting my lip gently in guilt. “They aren't interested in going steady, or marriage, or family. They only want a quick fuck and if you don't open your legs for them then they have no interest in you.”

“Well maybe you're just not looking in the right places, doll,” He suggested with a raise of his eyebrow, and rolling onto his toes for a moment before he settled back against the back of the glass elevator. It stopped at the lobby and we stepped out, making our way to the doors, which Bucky, being the gentleman he was, held open for me.

“Thank you.” I giggled and let out a noise of protest when I held the second door open and he grasped it in his metal arm and shooed me out with his flesh hand against the small of my back, refusing to let me hold the door open for me.

“First rule of looking for a gentleman to date,” Bucky said as we stepped out into the bright New York morning. “He'll always hold doors open for his girl, same with chairs he'll always hold her chair out for her and push her in,” I glanced down at the sleeve of his long sleeved, sheer army green shirt, as he held his metal arm out to me, wearing a finger-less glove on it. “he'll also offer her his arm.” I smiled up at him as I took it, placing my hand which felt small and delicate against the crook of the cool metal elbow. I could feel the hard metal against the thin fabric of his long sleeved shirt. The sleeve of his flesh arm was rolled up to his elbow I noted as he gently tucked his arm back to his side – a contrasting warmth to his cold arm.

“Wow, I'm impressed Mr. Barnes.” I teased him as we walked down the sidewalk, glimpsing up at him.

“I read my notes every morning after I wake up,” He said with what I thought to be a sheepish and slightly embarrassed laugh. In a way, that made me feel bad for him. His notebooks weren't small like Steve's and their purpose wasn't for writing down what he'd missed but what he remembered and in case he forgot.

“Very studious of you James.” I spoke with a demure smile, leaning into him slightly as he led the way through a particularly large crowd. My grip tightened on his arm, though it was admittedly hard to take a good grasp on his vibratium arm, and I was kind of afraid that if it re-calibrated itself and the plates shifted my finger might get pinched. Tight and large throngs of people made me nervous habitually and I'd never been in the military, I could only imagine how they made Bucky feel. He was taller than me and peered over the heads of the crowd, before he leaned down towards my ear.

“I see the fruit stand up ahead.” He told me, letting his arm drop to wrap it around my waist, the metal fingers digging lightly into my hip. “This way, doll.” He led me through the people, and when we had a window he darted across the street and walked to the fruit stand. Bucky bought a bag of twenty plums and he opened the paper bag and then the plastic bag they'd been put in and held it out to me. For a second, I hesitated. “You don't want one?” He asked me after I did not immediately react aside from confusion.

“I don't like plums, actually.” I admitted, giggling softly when he pouted.

“Oh,” Bucky breathed and pursed his lips down at the bag before he looked over his shoulder. “We can go back and get some fruit you would like?” He offered but my hand on his metal arm pulled his attention back to me sharply.

“You're very sweet Bucky, but I'm fine, really. I'm still full from that awesome breakfast you made.” And then, because sometimes I tended to lack a filter between my brain and my mouth I asked. “Can you feel that? When I touch your vibratium arm?” He plucked a plum from the bag and rolled it back up holding it in his metal hand while his flesh hand brought the fresh, plump fruit up to his mouth.

“Yes, doll. I feel the heat of your palm, the pressure you apply even as light as it is.” Bucky explained patiently to me. I wondered if I shouldn't have been so fascinated by it – it was a reminder to him of what HYDRA had turned him into, what they'd done to him. But it was unlike anything even Tony Stark could build, as far as I'd been told (though that was hush, hush around Stark Tower heaven forbid Stark heard of it and decided to take it as a challenge). He could install upgrades to it but if he were tasked with replicating it I wasn't so sure he'd be able to do it. We ended up walking to Central Park. We found an empty bench and took seats beside one another on it.

“Do you still go dancing in this century?” Bucky asked me suddenly and I felt a smirk tug at the corners of my lips.

“We do,” Surely, nothing like the dancing he was used to; but if he was curious I was willing to indulge him. “Are you interested?”

“In taking you dancing? Yes.” He responded.

“I don't know Barnes, I don't think you can handle it.”

“I'm a very accomplished dancer.” I laughed softly and shrugged my shoulders.

“Alright, you can take me dancing. I know the perfect place, but we'll have to break curfew.” I warned, grinning from ear to ear. He had no idea what he was in store for and the prospect of introducing him to the dancing of the twenty first century was a thrilling one.

Bucky let out a low scoff. “C'mon doll. I'm not Steve. I'm willing to break some rules to have some twenty first century fun.”

“I'll hold you to that.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some research on PTSD - but seeing as I've been fortunate enough to have never suffered with it, nor do I know anyone that suffers with it I had to compile my research and try to make an estimated guess based on suggestions of what you should do, what happens, etc. It may not be ~super~ accurate but then again everyone suffers differently (and this is a work of fiction so there's some leeway to play with it a bit to fit Bucky). Hopefully it reads as believable. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy chapter two! (Also, I'm sure there are spelling/grammar errors - I don't have a BETA reader so I try to fix them when I spot them but sometimes they're sneaky and escape my notice. :P)

We'd caught a movie after we spent an few hours in Central Park sometimes talking and sometimes simply enjoying the fresh air and the presence of each others company. It was nice to get away from Stark Tower and pretend that things were normal even though we both knew they weren't.

“I don't like the idea of you sneaking out your bedroom window. You do realize you're fifty floors up from the ground?” The idea was enough to make my stomach churn, especially since I was pretty sure there was no fire escape on his balcony. How did he intend to get _down_? We'd begun the walk back to Stark Tower, opting not to take a cab to continue simply enjoying the day.

“They'd never know I was gone, doll. They'd see me go into my bedroom but they'd never see me leave it.” My frown deepened. I still didn't like it even if it made sense.

“Ok, I think there's a emergency fire escape about two floors down from your balcony.” I didn't exactly like the idea of him making that jump either, but if he was determined to sneak out it was his best bet without killing himself.

“I can make that drop no problem.” Bucky spoke with confidence that wasn't enough to assure me.

“You know it'd be easier for me to just hack the surveillance system-”

“Stark would know.” He pointed out.

“Not right away,” I countered. “and it can be easily written off as a glitch.” I waved my hand that wasn't tucked against the crook of his metal arm flippantly in the air.

“No way,” Bucky had a devilish grin upon his face, his long, chestnut colored hair billowing around his face as a slow breeze caught a stray piece. “If I'm sneaking out I'm doing it the old fashioned way.” I deduced that there was no way for me to change his mind on it.

“Alright,” I finally conceded, albeit with reluctance. “I'll be waiting in the alley at eleven sharp,” I fixed him in my gaze as we stopped in front of Stark Tower and rearranged ourselves so we were facing one another. A smirk was tugging at the edges of Bucky's lips. “Oh and dress down, not up. A tee shirt and jeans will do. This dance isn't formal.” I told him, smiling up at him when he gave me a small salute. “Alright, I need to grab my Ipad from your apartment quick and then I'll see you at eleven.” I had to fill out some paperwork before I could call it a day, Fury would be expecting a report of what we did and how Bucky handled being out in public before I could go home, eat dinner, and change.

“You could stay for dinner,” Bucky offered as we walked into the building, holding the doors open for me. “Steve and I were planning to order some take-out.” He offered and I smiled down at the marble floor for a moment. “Steve wouldn't mind.” He added quietly and I wondered if Bucky had simply said that because he considered that it might keep me from saying 'yes', or if because he'd seen something on my face.

“I would love to, but I've got some paperwork I've got to file. You and Steve have fun.” Besides, he would see me in a couple hours anyway. I waved goodbye to Bucky as he leaned against the kitchen counter after we'd returned to his apartment and I'd given him a run down on how to use his dishwasher though I had a feeling he wouldn't use it anyway as I clutched my Ipad to my chest, paused to pet Steve the cat before I turned my back to Bucky as he took a bite of another plum and exited his room, stepping into the elevator and pushed the button for the surveillance floor.

I swiped my access card and entered the dark room, lit only by the monitors that dominated the wall. The agent in the chair, legs propped up on the control panel turned their chair to face me and when I realized who it was I let out an audible groan as I plopped down in the chair beside his.

“So how was your breakfast with the Russian super soldier, _doll_?” The endearment Bucky used was twisted to be mocking when it left Landon's lips and I spared him a warning glance out the corner of my eye as I unlocked my Ipad and began to fill out the mission report.

“You're an ass, Landon.” I told him not looking up from what I was typing.

“So, how was it?”

“You know what? It was _really_ nice. It was nice to have breakfast with a man who is not just interested in fucking me,” I snarled at him and grabbed his legs and pulled them off of the console, throwing Landon off balance.

“Is that what you think?” He laughed after he righted himself, pushing my chair with his foot. “You're so naive Gemma. He's a _man –_ well at least I think he's still a man,” I grit my teeth as Landon sneered, trying my best to ignore him. “A man that probably hasn't gotten laid in seventy some years.”

“Shut up.”

“Besides, you're romancing the guy so much. He's not Rogers, you know. He's not a knight in shining, white armor. He's got some serious blood on that armor, sweetcheeks. The Winter Soldier would kill you in an instant and you know it.”

“Can you shut up? I'm trying to file my mission report.” I snapped at him, taking my long red hair out of the pony tail I'd put it up into and let it fall from my shoulders to act as a curtain so I'd no longer have to see him or his lingering sneer at me.

A small grace period of silence followed and just when I started to relax believing that Landon had gotten the hint that he was crossing into dangerous territory with me he broke it, “You know Agent Barnes is like ninety-nine years old, right?”

I sighed heavily, feeling my patience wear thin. “He's biologically twenty nine, and anyway, you can't act like it matters especially not when you try to get Agent Rogers, whose a year younger than Agent Barnes to hook up with every hot woman that works in the Tower.” I stood up then, powering my Ipad down, snatching my bag off the floor and shoving the Ipad angrily in it before I hung it on my shoulder. “I'm going home,” I announced, angrily jabbing my thumb at the elevator button. “And word of advice Landon? Stop picking on Agent Barnes. It really makes you look desperate and jealous.” I said from over my shoulder as I pressed the button for the lobby and the elevator doors slid closed behind me.

* * *

 

I took a cab home to my apartment, tipped the driver and hurried up to it. I locked my door behind me and laid my bag on the counter. I fixed some leftovers and shifted through my closet. In the end I chose a loose necked silver blouse and a pair of black short shorts and knee-length boots. It would erase some of the height difference between Bucky and I. I put on a silver necklace that jingled lightly when I walked to accent my neck and dabbed some body spray on my wrists and the crook of my neck. I brushed my teeth after a moment of consideration and when I was finished gave myself a once over in the mirror, fussing with my hair so it hung down over my shoulders, a stark red against my pale shoulders. I felt decidedly nervous.

No doubt what I was going to introduce Bucky to was extremely different then what he was used to and I'd never worn anything like this for him before. It was an acceptable clubbing outfit and I'd worn it several times to the club but I'd always worn the standard SHIELD uniform even when we had been video chatting. I deliberated for a moment biting down on my bottom lip unsure that he would even like it. In his century women didn't expose so much flesh but the small amount of flesh my loose albeit plunging neckline would reveal where the shimmering fabric bunched between my breasts, and the exposure of my legs wasn't the most he'd see tonight. I'd seen girls with clothing that could barely be considered clothing at the clubs.

Despite my nervousness I was also excited. Clubbing wasn't something that Steve would ever go for – in fact I couldn't imagine he would enjoy it at all. Bucky, well he gave the impression that despite his gentlemanly behavior he wasn't opposed to a little trouble, a little bit of fun.

A quick glimpse at the clock told me I was going to be a few moments late and I cursed low, swiped my car keys out of the dish by the door, locked it behind me and hurried down to the parking garage.

 

Half an hour later Bucky had joined me in the car after he'd jumped down from the fire escape wearing a loose, light grey long sleeved shirt, covering his vibratium arm, though his hand I saw was absent of the fingerless glove he usually wore on it, and jeans with boots. My cheeks warmed as I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye as I drove to the club, feeling his eyes intently on me.

“Problem, Sarg?” I teased him, sparing him a full glimpse as he shifted in his seat. His brows furrowed for a moment, his metal hand clenching into a fist against his thigh.

“No,” He responded after a moment. “You look very ginchy tonight.” He smiled at me then, as I looked over at him as we rolled to a stop at a red light. The smile was a little bit angel and a little bit of a devil's.

“Should I be offended?” I asked him, raising a brow and laughing softly at him.

Bucky let out a soft “Ah,” and cleared his throat once. “In my century _ginchy_ meant sexy.”

“Are you talking dirty to me in 40's slang, Mr. Barnes?” He laughed then as the light turned green and I pulled into the club's parking lot.

“That ain't nothin' doll,” He murmured as I shut the car off.

“Ok, well cute dirty talk aside,” I hedged, I turned a bit on my seat to face him. “There are a few things you should know before we go in and a few things we need to go over first,” He fixed me in his gaze, giving me a sage nod to show that he was paying attention and taking my words seriously.

“It's going to be loud and there's going to be a lot of people pushed together, also it's going to be dark, the dance floor is lit and there will probably be strobe lights. I'm warning you because I don't know if any of it could trigger an episode of PTSD.” I trusted him to be honest with me, to tell me if he didn't feel comfortable with this knowing outright what he was walking into.

“I don't know,” He admitted and I nodded once, chewing on the inside of my cheek.

“It's up to you whether you want to try it.”

“You got all dolled up and I won't know until I try.” I wasn't so sure those were odds I particularly felt comfortable with, especially since this wasn't even allowed in the first place. I had him out after curfew and if he went into Winter mode I was endangering myself just as much as I was everyone at that club, Bucky too. “I want to try.” He un-clenched his fist and I shuddered lightly as I felt his metal fingers slid over the back of my hand.

“If you start feeling uncomfortable or like you're about to have an episode let me know I'll get you out of there as quickly as I can.” I told him looking him in the eye.

“Alright doll, now c'mon lets go dancing.”

 

I led the way into the club, grabbing Bucky's flesh hand, his large, strong fingers twining through mine as he towed along behind me, moving in close as I led the way onto the dance floor.

“This is...very different than what I'd expected.” He admitted as he made our way to the middle of the dance floor where the throngs of thriving bodies thinned and there was ample space as to not make him feel crowded.

“Welcome to the twenty first century's way of dancing.” I giggled at him. “It's simple, alright? Just move your body to the beat.” He laughed over the music, ducking his head slightly so that he was peering at me from between his long and dark lashes. “Put your hands here,” I grabbed his hands and put them on my waist, and I moved in closer, minimizing the distance between our bodies. Bucky ducked his head and laughed softly, pulling me in close, his fingers – flesh and metal – digging lightly into the soft flesh of my waist as I moved against him, holding back to ensure he was comfortable with it. At first, his body was tense, shoulders stiff, unsure about this new century style of dance.

“It's kind of like sex on the dance floor.” He pointed out and I couldn't be sure but I thought there was a soft flush in his cheeks. I laughed over the music, shifting closer to him when someone's body writhed against me.

“Kind of. Are you ok, Bucky?” I asked him, swaying my hips gently to the music, reaching up to touch his face.

“Yeah,” He leaned into my touch, the rough stubble of his cheek scratching against my sensitive palm. He inhaled deeply and rolled his shoulders. I couldn't hear his vibranium arm re-calibrate itself but I felt the plates move against my hip as he pressed his metal hand to the small of my back and guided me closer. “You're going to let me take you dancing, just so you know, doll.”

“Oh, you mean _old school_ dancing?” I teased him, drawing in a sharp breath when I felt his flesh hand move up my arm, his finger tips just brushing the skin as he guided it up against his shoulder and brought his forehead down to rest lightly against mine as he moved. Eventually, our bodies started to move in sync and I grinned up at him, running my fingers through his long hair, surprised that it was soft and silky to the touch. “See, Sarg? You have the hang of this.”

The beat became a low hum to the steady increase of my heart beat as I focused on just the movements of our bodies, of how when I moved a little too far away from him he guided me back in close, his nose brushing mine in a way that made me think he was going to kiss me. A few times, I found myself angling my face subtly so that it would be easy for him to close the distance with his lips. Part of me wanted him to.

So caught up in the moment I hadn't realized that the song had changed. I did not notice the sharp crescendo of the drums, did not notice the strobe lights flashing red. Not until his grip tightened on me and I noticed that his face had gone horribly pale. “ _Doll_ ,” Bucky groaned miserably, sweat sliding down his forehead and cheeks. “Get me outta here.” He pleaded in a rasp.

I took immediate action. I shifted my body, grabbing his vibranium arm and putting it around me neck, grateful when he leaned against me. I was putting myself at risk, a tighten of his bionic arm and I could have my neck crushed. It was all it would take, but I felt better knowing that I was currently more at risk of being injured than an innocent bystander.

“Please move, get out of the way.” I asked calmly, not wanting to further upset Bucky whose breathing had escalated to hyperventilating as we moved through the crowd by yelling though I unkindly elbowed a few dancing bodies who seemed ignorant of the very real danger they were in. These people had no idea. I was confident he wasn't going into Winter mode for no one had said the activation words but I was confident he was having a flashback to WWII and that was equally as dangerous.

We made it to the stairs and I tightened my grip on his waist, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “ Bucky it's alright, ok? C'mon big boy, up the stairs. We're almost outside,” I encouraged him in as soothing a voice as I could manage, unable to hide the slight tremble it had taken. I wasn't worried about losing my job, at the moment. I was concerned about getting Bucky outside to safety. We breached the door and I led him over to the wall where he slid down it, putting his head in his hands. I knelt down beside him, the pavement hard and cold on my bare knees. “Bucky, stay with me, alright? You're safe. It's ok.”

“Oh _god_ ,” He moaned and let his head fall back against the wall, his entire body tensing as he closed his eyes. He wasn't hyperventilating anymore but when his eyes opened their movements were frantic and he was looking at me but I could tell his mind was not in the present.

“Bucky,” I took his face gently in my hands, assured slightly when he leaned into my touch.

“Gemma?” He asked, surprised as if he didn't expect me to appear on the battlefield of World War II.

“That's right. Just focus on me, alright? You need to come back to the present, to the twenty first century. The war's over. You're safe. You're back in New York.” I kept talking to him, softly, soothingly. I knew he wouldn't just snap out of it. The episode had to run it's course but if I kept talking to him, kept him focused on me as opposed to what he thought was happening around us it might help him come out of it quicker.

Bucky's rapid moving eyes focused upon me, his pupils dilated, his flesh hand reaching out to touch my cheek. I stationed my hands on my knees, not daring to touch him again and not wanting to startle him. “ _No_ ,” Bucky rasped quietly, his hand falling from my cheek as his eyes zeroed in on something over my shoulder.

“Ma'am is everything alright?”

I had no time to react, no time to _breathe_ , to warn the bouncer whom had no doubt come to check on us to stay back before Bucky's flesh hand wrapped tightly around my arm, stood with inhuman speed, pulling me up and moving me behind him without a touch of gentleness. A pained noise left my lips, though I realized he was using his body as a shield. He was protecting me from whatever horrors he was seeing. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins as I tried to quickly find some way to get control of the situation that was about to spiral out of control.

“Get back!” I calmly commanded the bouncer who had his hands held up in the universal sign of surrender. He was a big guy but his body-builder physique was not a match for Bucky and he seemed to release that.

“Get away from her, Nazi!” Bucky snarled at the bodyguard who looked between us, evidently confused but took a small, conceding step back.

“Please just stay back,” I begged him, peeping out from around Bucky's arm. Irritated by my inability to listen Bucky pushed me back behind him again.

“Sir, we're going to get you some help alright?” A cop had showed up and had his gun drawn, aimed low but his muscles were tense. Bucky's body went tense as he spotted the gun, his breathing escalating once more.

“I need you to listen to me. Put your gun down and turn around and walk away. Let us be. He's having a flashback. He doesn't realize he's not back in World War II.” I proceeded to tell them. Bucky rolled his shoulder, the vibranium whirring and _shinking_ as he re-calibrated it, the plates sliding closer in order to better absorb impact.

“Bucky stop! Stop!” I wrenched myself free of his grip, grabbing onto his metal arm, suddenly afraid he was going to attack them. I moved so that I was standing in front of Bucky and planted my hands firmly on his chest. That caught his attention and he looked sharply down at me, his distanced gaze wounded. He swallowed thickly, his adam's apple bobbing hard in his throat.

“Gemma _what are you doing_? They're Nazi's. They're HYDRA! They're going to kill us. They're going to kill _you_ ,” Tears had began to slid down his cheeks, and I felt my heart break at how tormented he was in that instant. Stuck in a war that hadn't ever really ended for him. A war he'd never truly came back from. I felt a hot tear collect at the brim of my eyelid and I blinked it away, feeling it slide down my cheek.

“World War II?” One of them asked.

“Yeah, don't you know who that is?”

“That's not the Captain.”

“No, not the Captain. The other one. What do they call him? The Winter Soldier? Yeah, that's Sergeant James Barnes. Of the Howling Commandos.”

“ _Shut up!_ ” Bucky screamed at them.

“Sirs I am a SHIELD agent and I need you to gather the crowd and get them out of here. You're _not_ helping him.” If anything I was afraid they were only making it worse. I saw a crowd of curious onlookers, three heavy set bouncers and an armed cop but I knew Bucky saw much worse than that. I heard the crowd whispering as the cop tried to usher them away from the scene.

“Bucky, talk to me. What do you see?” He looked down at me confused, as if he couldn't understand why I was asking him that, why I couldn't see it too.

“I- HYDRA, the Nazi's are retreating.” Bucky swallowed thickly, taking a gasping albeit deep breath, teetered forward and gripped me for support, his grip tight on my upper arms.

“Bucky?” I gripped his shoulders, one metal and one flesh, trying to support his weight as he leaned a bit more of it against me. I braced my legs but ultimately struggled with his weight as he pressed his forehead against mine taking methodical, deep breaths through his mouth.

“Did I hurt anyone, doll?” He asked me after a few seconds in a low, thick voice.

“No, no. No one got hurt.” I assured him, glimpsing as the officer holstered his weapon and approached slowly.

“Are you alright, son?” He asked Bucky tentatively, approaching as if Bucky were a wounded animal that might lash out at him.

“Yes, officer,” I felt the rumble of Bucky's voice. “I'm sorry.” He apologized.

The bouncer came over then and Bucky let the officer and bouncer take his weight off of me, allowed them to support him instead.

“You don't have to apologize, Sergeant Barnes. I served four tours over in Iraq, those episodes can be a bitch, and I can't even imagine how much worse it is for you, not even in the same century you left behind, Sir.” I watched Bucky intently for any signs that the Officer's words might trigger another episode but he seemed alright. Weak but otherwise back in the present. I swallowed the guilt I felt. I shouldn't have asked him to do this, I should have known it would trigger him, but the truth was I'd been going off of Steve who, surprisingly, didn't seem to suffer from PTSD episodes out in public ….but he knew his triggers. Bucky reminded me of Tony who while had never served in a war but had PTSD from the battle of New York. The few episodes he'd had _had_ been out in public.

“Bring him to my car.” I told them, leading the way, sparing glimpses back at Bucky to see that his face had regained some color. I opened the door and they helped him in the passenger seat. I shut the door, thanked both of them and climbed in the driver's seat.

“I'm sorry our good time is ruined, doll.” Bucky spoke in a low voice as I twisted the key in the ignition.

“Don't be silly,” I shushed him gently. “You really know how to move your body, Sarg,” I teased him, not wanting him to feel guilty for something that was my fault. “I'm impressed.”

“You haven't seen anything yet, doll,” He laughed lowly, leaning his seat back. I smirked out at the street, merging onto it. “I don't want to go back to Stark Tower,” He admitted to me after a few minutes. “I don't want to be alone.”

“Alright.” I agreed, taking the route that would take me to my apartment as opposed to the Tower. I was liable to get fired over this, but then again I reminded myself that I was probably already fired for the events of tonight anyway.

No doubt Fury would be, as his name suggested (in an extremely non humorous way currently), furious with me when he learned what happened. And he would learn of it. He knew everything that happened.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this (short) chapter is basically fluff, and I'm sorry if it's not up to par with the rest. Hopefully it's canon to Bucky - I wrote this on a whim of an idea and also when I was sleepy so I pre-apologize if it's utter trash, lol. :p The next one will pick up on the action, I promise! ;D

I led the way up to my apartment, unlocked the door and stepped inside, flicking on the lights as Bucky entered behind me, shutting the door behind him. I tossed my keys in the bowl I kept on the short bookshelf by the door and locked the door as he moved to the side, wandering around the small living room. I'd never envisioned any of the Avengers coming to pay a visit to my apartment but I was genuinely surprised that when I turned back to face Bucky that he didn't look out of place. As it was, my apartment was an old brick firehouse turned into apartments. It was neat and clean, decorated to fit my style – a hand carved, wooden futon with black cushions and a light silver faux fur blanket draped over the corner. A glass coffee table in front of it and a large flatscreen tv hanging on the wall between the windows that looked out onto the street, with indoor/outdoor lights draped over it.

It was a pattern repeated through out the apartment – I enjoyed the cozy, aesthetic feeling the draped indoor/outdoor lights gave. It wasn't a terribly outdated apartment – all my appliances had been new when I'd moved in two years prior but it was no Stark Tower. It was brick and real hardwood flooring and high ceilings. No marble, no plush carpet that was probably ten thousand dollars per square foot. The most expensive thing I owned was the old hand-me down Russian rug beneath the futon and coffee table. I suddenly felt gaudy in my clubbing outfit in the comfort of my humble abode.

“I know it's no Stark Tower,” I grinned at him as he wandered over to the tall bookshelf I had against the furthest wall, his finger skimming over the bindings of books and DVD's alike. “but it's home.”

“I like it,” Bucky assured me, as he rounded the futon, running his flesh fingers over the soft faux fur blanket, sparing me one of those dangerously charming smiles. “It feels much warmer than Stark Tower.” For a second my brow furrowed and I cocked my head to the side as I studied him. I'd never seen Stark Tower – or Bucky's apartment really – as cold; but I supposed to a man who grew up in an entirely different century and was used to a setting much more humble than the Billionaire, it would feel harsh and unwelcoming. Cold, as he had more or less described it.

“Please, make yourself at home.” I gestured with my hand, conveying that he could help himself to whatever he wanted.

“I recognize this place,” He told me, smiling as he sat down on the futon, leaning against it as if he'd been to my apartment a million times, as if he were comfortable. “It used to be a firehouse. It was occupied when I was a boy but it was abandoned shortly before the war. I'm glad they didn't tear it down.”

“Me too, or else I wouldn't have a house.” I teased, making my way into the kitchen as Bucky laughed. I was happy to hear his laugh, but was eager to keep him talking so he did not begin to dwell upon the episode and almost disaster of his PTSD episode.

“You know what we could use? A glass of wine.” After tonight, I'd say we both deserved some of the unopened Sangria I'd been keeping for an occasion. Originally, it had been bought to celebrate the marriage proposal that had never came as my mother had insisted it would. She'd called me up in a tizzy about my ex buying an engagement ring only for me to be dumped the night I'd assumed he'd been about to propose. My smile faltered a bit. The memory was far from a pleasant one and the humiliation I had felt, even two years later, still remained.

“Are you tryin' to get me drunk, doll?” Bucky stretched his flesh arm out over the back of the futon, angling his body so that he could look at me. A devil's smile had formed on his lips. I didn't have to see his eyes to know they'd taken that mischievous glint that I'd quickly learned they held when he was being charmingly suggestive. Steve had once stated that Bucky had been a bit of a playboy in their youth. It didn't surprise me.

“No, but you look like you could use a drink, and I need a drink and we might as well toast to my last day working for SHIELD.” I said it with such casual ease and a smile – even though the thought of being unemployed settled much like anxiety in my stomach. I pulled two glasses down and filled them each half full, grabbed them by the stems and walked over to the futon, handing one to him when he held his flesh hand out for it, shifting himself on the couch to make room for me.

“Fury won't fire you,” Bucky sounded so confident about it that I almost let myself believe him. “but I'll tell you what I will toast to,” He switched the glass to his vibranium arm, draping his flesh one casually over my shoulders. I tried to ignore the jolt it gave me, tried to not study his chiseled features, tried not to drown in the sea of his steel blue eyes. “I'll toast to a beautiful gal showing an old soldier that this new century doesn't have to be so foreign,” He murmured, his left brow rising slightly. “that it's dancing is the raunchiest thing he's ever seen,” I laughed into the back of my hand, unable to help the soft giggle as it left my lips. “but that with an angel it's actually beautiful. I'll toast to the gal who took me out and showed me a good time, and whose gentle touch reminded me that I'm not alone.” My heart had jumped to my throat.

“Color me impressed, Mr. Barnes. Who knew you were so poetic?” I teased him, poking him lightly in the bicep, before I raised my glass to his and he clinked his together lightly with mine.

“I've got a lot of different sides, doll.” He grinned around the rim of his glass as he tipped it up and took a sip of the red wine. I lifted my own glass and let the sweet wine slip between my lips. If he was this romantic back in the 1940's it was no wonder all the women flocked to him. He was handsome – the eye catching kind – but he was a gentleman with a little bit of a rogue. It was enough to flatter and to grab a girl's interest hook, line and sinker. It was almost as if Bucky had women down to a natural science.

His words were genuine, though, and I appreciated it. I found that it was easy to forget, here in my living room, curled against his side when his hand moved to my shoulder, tugging me close to his side that he was The Winter Soldier. In this moment, he wasn't a man out of time. He wasn't a Russian assassin. He was just Bucky. Something that I think he needed.

“You know Steve and I broke into this building once,” He admitted after a few moments of peaceful silence between us.

I shot him a dubious look before I took another sip of my wine. “Really Bucky? You're going to try to tell me  _Steven Rogers_ broke into this building?” I asked him with teasing sarcasm. I scoffed softly at him. “Steve – who embodies all that is good and righteous – broke into this building?”

“Ok, well admittedly I did most of the breaking and Steve just followed because I didn't give him much of a choice.” Bucky admitted, grinning sheepishly at me.

“That sounds much more believable.” I teased him. “So, pray tell me why you broke in here?”

“Our dates. The ladies had heard a tale that this old place was haunted and thought it would be fun to bring the date here. Of course, what kind of gentleman would I be if I denied a lady of her wish? So we brought them here.”

“The worst kind of gentleman.” I piped up helpfully, delighted by the sound of his laugh. He had such a nice laugh, and for a moment I felt an unsavory rush of envy towards the women who'd gotten to date him in the 1940's. Who knew the Bucky before the war, before HYDRA and the hideous and atrocious things they'd done to him. I could see the Bucky he was before in the man now – as I had earlier today – but the truth was he wouldn't ever be quite the same. There was no erasing the torture and terror he'd endured. There was only acceptance and the future, which on the side of the good guys was wide open for him; though he deserved a chance at a normal life. At being something other than the winter soldier, if that was what he wanted. But, he could be a super hero if he wanted to be, too. He had that choice now. “And? What happened? Did you find any ghosts?”

“Nah,” He snickered lowly to himself. “Steve had an asthma attack and we had to give it up.”

The way Bucky said it, with such casualness – as if Captain America having a random asthma attack was the most normal thing in the world to him – that I found it hilarious and I laughed so hard that my rib cage had begun to ache. Then again, I had to remind myself that the Steve Bucky was remembering was before the super soldier serum. It was his best friend – the scrappy, “punk” Steve.

I wished desperately that I could go back and see them at that time, to witness the friendship they'd had.

“Breaking and entering Sergeant Barnes,” I tsked him drawing in a sharp breath. “That's illegal, you know.”

“Not as illegal as lying on your enlistment forms.” He quipped with a grin down at me.

“We weren't talking about Steve, we were talking about you.” I reminded him, squinting at him as he chuckled.

“Hmm,” Bucky hummed around the rim of his glass as he lifted it to his lips once more.

“I just realized you don't have your notebooks with you to write any of your memories down.” I glimpsed up at him, catching the movement as he set the wine glass down on the coffee table with his vibranium hand in my peripheral vision.

“That's ok.” Bucky reassured me, but I frowned all the same, leaning across him to set my own glass on the table before I settled back at his side. I knew how much his notebooks meant to him. I knew they were the most precious things he had.

“I'm sure I've got some spare notebooks lying around.” I had always told myself I'd get back into drawing and bought several notebooks for the purpose but never actually got around to using them. I went to get up to look for them but he gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“I'll write it down tomorrow, doll.”

“Bucky, you might forget between now and tomorrow.” I protested.

“I won't.” He assured me softly. “Because you'll help me remember.” He propped a long leg up along the length of the futon as I tucked my legs up, under me, shifting his body so his back was against the arm of the futon, and my head was pressed against his chest. Despite myself, I was immediately tired, exhausted from the day and eventful night we'd had; and Bucky's chest was solid. It was warm, and stranger yet, his arms felt safe. Before I even knew what was happening I had begun to fall asleep, jostled partially awake by him as he shifted us gently, so that we were both lying on the futon, and I shivered slightly against him as I felt him cover us with the faux fur blanket.

“Goodnight, doll.”

“Sweet dreams, Bucky.” I mumbled sleepily.

He chuckled softly. “Maybe.” I heard Bucky murmur in quiet agreement before I drifted off into sleep.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me a while to get up! I rewrote parts of this chapter about three different times because I wasn't happy with it. I'm still not sure I'm 100% happy with this but I didn't want to keep y'all waiting any longer! There are some references to famous movie(s)/tv show(s) & a couple nod backs to Captain America: The First Avenger. ;D Thank you so much to all who commented & left kudos! They're so lovely and I hope you all continue to enjoy this fic! <3

Bucky did not sleep without nightmares, but I soothed him the best that I could through the night. When the morning sun drifted in through the sheer curtains that covered my apartment windows I was startled awake not by Bucky but by the sound of my phone vibrating on the kitchen counter where I'd set it the night before. At first, the noise did not register and I was overcome with Bucky's warmth, with the feel of his large hand splayed flat against the small of my back. There was a reprieve of silence and I started to doze back off when it began to vibrate violently again and I groaned and propped myself up as best I could in the small space of the futon's back and Bucky's body. I peered down at Bucky's face, the planes of it smooth in his peaceful dreams, his breathing deep and steady. I recognized the rapid eye movement beneath his eyelids to mean he was in the deepest stage of REM sleep. Careful not to wake him I grabbed his hand – smiling softly to myself when his flesh fingers curled against my hand subconsciously as I slid his arm from around me and laid it gently across his chest as to not disturb him and climbed over him as agile I could manage, letting out a startled, muffled shriek when his metal hand shot up and grabbed my hip and pushed me back so that I was left straddling his midriff covered by the faux fur blanket.

A bastard's smile tugged at the corners of his lips and Bucky peeked his eyes open at me in a manner that could only be described as seductive. “Ignore it.” He commanded me in a tone still laced with the lingering traces of slumber.

“You can't tell me what to do.” In hindsight, it was a weak comeback, but my mind was muddled and distracted by his face, touched by the golden rays of sunlight that filtered through the my sheer curtains I was finding it hard to focus on the insistent vibrations of my phone.

“The hell I can't,” He countered with a smirk. “I'm a Sergeant, and more than that I'm an Avenger,” I scoffed lightly at him, planting my hands against his chest to stabilize myself though his vibranium hand on my hip ensured that I was plenty stable. “That's the best nights sleep I had in...ye-” He cut himself off, his brow furrowing as he contemplated his words. “-well that I can remember. Hell of a lot better than waking up in a cyro pod, or in the empty king sized bed in Stark Tower.” And then I watched, incredulous as Bucky licked his upper lip and drew his bottom lip between his teeth. The asshole _bit his bottom lip_ in an alluring manner that left me staring at his lips, my own parting slightly of their own accord. I took an uneven breath, blinking down at him. Maybe that move worked on girls in the 40's to get his way – ok, hell, that move _would have_ worked if my phone wasn't angrily vibrating restlessly on the kitchen counter. I hung my head, my red hair falling over my shoulders, closing my eyes as his flesh hand drew across my cheek, tucking my hair back behind my ear.

I grabbed his vibranium arm, noting the small gasp he took only because his lips parted with the quickened breath.

“You still had nightmares,” I reminded him softly, trying to focus on one thing at a time that _wasn't_ the gradual increase in my heart's pace.

“I did,” Bucky allowed with a quiet sigh. “but they weren't anything I couldn't handle. I was aware of you and that helped.” He assured me quietly as he propped himself up on his elbows, his grip on my hip relaxing slightly. Not enough for my to worm my way free, but enough for the touch to be tender.

“You're awfully flirtatious this morning.” I commented, smiling at him as he laughed.

“You make me feel like myself. My _old_ self. Pre-war Bucky.” He murmured, and for a moment I forgot about my phone as I met his steel blue gaze, drawn into their oceanic depths – until my phone vibrated off the counter and clattered, loudly, to the floor. Bucky tensed and his arm dropped from my hip and I scrambled over him, taking advantage of the moment and hopped out of the blanket's last ditch attempt to keep me there, nearly tripping as my foot got caught in it. Admittedly, I stumbled forward, but caught myself on Bucky's vibranium arm that flashed out to buffer my fall.

“Thanks.” I muttered to him, heat flooding my cheeks as I padded into the kitchen and bent down to retrieve my phone. STARK with a picture of Tony lit up the screen. I swiped my finger to unlock it and pressed the speaker button.

“Ariel?!” Tony's voice came from the speaker as I stood up, smoothing my clubbing shirt down with the action. After a brief pause of embarrassment on my end, with Bucky's eyes focusing intently on me I turned my attention to my phone as Tony's face popped up on the screen in a video chat.

“Jesus Stark,” I leaned against my kitchen counter. “You're relentless, you know?”

“Listen, Ariel you should know that Fury is furious and not in the way that would be exceptionally hilarious,” Tony spoke quickly – as he was known to do but there was a sense of urgency in his tone that normally was only resolved for emergencies. Or something that I should have been taking serious. I spared a quick, worried glimpse at Bucky as he rose from the futon. “You might want to collect your Six Million Dollar Man, Bane, and get back to Stark Tower, as in _Yesterday_.” Without any more explanation or any sort of social exchanges or even a _goodbye_ Tony hung up.

“Why did he call me a six million dollar man?” Bucky asked, when I hurried to the hall, pausing, my phone still held tight in my grip as I dashed into my bedroom. I tore through my closet for a decent shirt and jeans and threw them on quickly not wanting to walk into Stark Tower in clubbing clothes.

“It's from an old tv show in the early 70's,” I told him, gesturing for him to follow as I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my bag and keys and shooed him out the door, shutting it behind me. I was surprised when Bucky reached back for my hand and when I didn't immediately take it glimpsed at me over his shoulder. I placed my hand in his as we hurried down the stairs, his long legs propelling him ahead of me. “the main character was a cyborg.” I explained. Bucky made a resentful noise in the back of his throat but otherwise let it drop as we exited my apartment building.

 

I was tense the whole drive to Stark Tower.

“Remember what I said last night, doll?” Bucky asked me as I parked the car in the Tower's parking garage.

“Which part?” Because I remembered it all. The dancing, the flashback, the story he told.

“The part when I told you that Fury wasn't going to fire you.” I was surprised, albeit extremely pleased that he remembered, and though I wanted to ask him if he remembered the story he'd told me I knew prolonging this would only infuriate Nick more. Instead, I gave Bucky a half-hearted smile but ultimately kept to my silence getting out of the car with Bucky following after me. He moved silently at my side, his steps like a soldier's march reminding me of Steve but somehow more disciplined, each step Bucky took struck me as calculated, confident and I couldn't help but wonder if that was how he'd always carried himself or if it was Winter's lasting influence upon him.

The doors slid open and Director Fury and agents, that exchanged glances between each other, a nervous ripple moving through them as they focused on Bucky, blocked our path. I stopped and steeled my shoulders, preparing for the worst.

“Agent Barnes,” Director Fury's singular gaze focused upon Bucky at my side. The Director was an impressive and intimidating man. I'd seen him shake up bigger men than Bucky with just a single glance. Curiously, I spared Bucky a glimpse to see that he was staring right back at Director Fury, seemingly unfazed. Fury inhaled and turned his singular gaze to me, and I felt it sear into me with disapproval. He cocked his head to the side and spoke “Agent Bane,”.

“Yes, Director?” I asked him, glad that my voice did not betray me with a waver. I felt my resolve crumbling beneath my bosses' steel edged stare.

“We're going to have a discussion that you aren't going to enjoy, Agent Bane,” He told me smoothly before he gestured for his men to move forward with a sharp, yet subtle movement of his head. “Escort Agent Barnes to his apartment and bring Agent Bane to my office.” His voice was cold as he issued the orders, and though the men hesitated they split, two coming towards me while four broke off towards Bucky.

I intentionally took a step back, despite knowing that I had to face my consequences for breaking clear and concise rules regarding Bucky but I didn't expect him to send two massive guards to “detain” me. All I did was take Bucky to a club and let him stay the night with me – I hardly thought that required Fury to _detain_ me.

In a flurry of movement, I barely had time to register the whirring and shinking of Bucky's vibranium arm before he'd grabbed the agent's wrist that had made to grab my arm until the man let out a strangled cry of pain and the sharp crack of severing wrist bones echoed loudly around us.

“Bucky, _no!_ ” I gasped.

“Don't _touch_ her.” Bucky spat at them, shrugging off the one agent who had grabbed him, with a blow to the agent's rib cage, sending him sprawling backwards, cradling his rib cage.

“Hey, _hey_!” Director Fury's voice boomed out above the whimpers of pain. “Don't touch Agent Bane, no doubt she's willing to cooperate with my orders,” I gave a sage nod, still gripping Bucky's flesh arm. “As for Seargant Barnes, well I wouldn't recommend touching him either. Let's be civil, people.” Director Fury shook his head stepping into the elevator. I pulled Bucky along, climbing in the back, staring at the agents around us as the two with broken bones – so easily executed by Bucky – were helped to the Tower's Infirmary.

The elevator ride was filled with a tense silence that no one seemed willing to break. At the floor to Bucky's apartment the doors slid open and the agents filed out, standing at attention as they waited for Bucky to exit the elevator. He looked at me and I stretched up on my tiptoes and placed a small peck of a kiss on his stubble adorned cheek before he exited and the elevator doors slid closed at the touch of a button.

“I trust you're aware, Bane, that fraternization is against the rules in SHIELD. The Avengers don't need the distraction.”

“What about Pepper? Or Laura?”

“Neither of whom work for SHIELD. Miss Potts runs Stark Industries and Mrs. Barton is unaffiliated with SHIELD, as Agent Barton would like it to remain.” I squinted at the back of his head, leaning against the back of the elevator.

“Don't worry Director, Agent Barnes and I are strictly professional towards one another.”

“Why don't I believe you?” Was all Nick Fury said in a sardonic tone, the question clearly a rhetorical one.

“Director,” I protested as I followed him into his office, wincing as the glass door shut behind me.

“You disobeyed directives, Agent Bane,” Nick Fury leveled a stare at me as he sat down behind his desk, templing his fingertips together. “You had Agent Barnes out after curfew and on top of that caused him to have a flashback in a crowded place.”

“Yes,” There was no sense in denying it. It was true, and I knew that there were consequences and that trying to argue my point would get me no where.

“Do you understand how that could have been disastrous?”

“Yes, Director.”

“So why did you do it?”

“I just thought-” I swallowed thickly, fidgeting with my hands as they hung at my sides, took a deep breath and steeled my gaze at Director Fury. “-Bucky is _not_ a child, neither is he an animal. You can't keep him _locked up_ in this damn Tower! You don't lock up any of the other Avengers in here. Hell, you didn't even lock up _Banner_ \- who need I remind you turns into a giant green rage monster.” I snapped.

“Bucky's no different then _any of them_. He needs to accumulate himself to the twentieth century. People need to _see him_ , to know that he's a hero too. Things that he can't do while you have him on lockdown,” I pointed out, unsure where this argument was coming from. I'd never dreamed of raising my voice at Director Fury. “They don't lock up modern day soldiers for having a PTSD episode. They have therapists for that.” I snarled at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

Nick Fury was silent during my tirade and when I inhaled deeply and let it out in a loud sigh he blinked at me, his brow rising in a 'are you done' manner that made my stomach knot. Well, if he hadn't been considering firing me earlier there was little doubt that he was doing so now.

“Are you recommending that we get Barnes a therapist?”

“No- not unless _he_ wants one. He's been cooperative because he wants to rise from what HYDRA made him. He's _not_ the villain. Everyone forgets that he's just a victim. So what are you _afraid of_? You slapped the title of Avenger on him, so _let him be_ one.” I hadn't realized I'd ghosted closer to Fury's desk until I released my knuckles where sheet white against the desk where I gripped the edge of it painfully tight. I stood up, realizing that I'd subconsciously been leaning closer towards my boss as I made my demands.

Oh man. I was determined to dig this grave deep, wasn't I?

Yet, I couldn't help it. Their treatment of Bucky wasn't fair and as I was probably no longer employed by SHIELD I felt that it wasn't necessary for me to bite my tongue any longer on the subject.

“I agree, Agent Bane.”

“I'm-” I struggled for a moment, shaking my head as I let go of his desk and took a step back. “Did you just say you _agree_ with me? …Sir?” I asked him, because I wasn't sure I'd heard him right.

“Agent Bane, do you know why I chose you over all the other, more qualified, more experienced agents?” He asked me stoically.

“Because they weren't compatible.” I pointed out.

“Because Barnes trusts you, because the _Avengers_ trust you and because you have initiative. Any one can follow orders, but keeping up with the Avengers is a different matter entirely. There is so much we don't know about The Winter Soldier.” Fury rose from his chair then, fixing in my a piercing stare. “Bane, tell Barnes he has free roam. Let him go out _but with an escort_ , and when we need him he'll suit up with the other Avengers, but if he's compromised, if I even have the slightest suspicion that HYDRA has gotten him in their grasp once more he's going into Cyro.”

“What if we can't get him into cyro?” I dreaded the question, _hated it_ as it slipped from my lips. Yet, I needed to know, needed to hear the confirmation even though I had already assumed the words before Nick Fury spoke them. The Winter Soldier only answered to HYDRA and I did not fool myself by thinking he would _willingly_ go into cyro.

“Then he will be dealt with.” A chill ran down my spine and I hugged my arms despite that I wasn't cold. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, Director.” I gritted my teeth.

“Good, you are dismissed Agent Bane. Oh and you're going to spend the rest of the day filing paperwork as penalization for disobeying orders.”

I let out a low groan. Paperwork meant I would have to spend the day in _Landan_ 's presence. I pushed the elevator button with more force than was necessary and steeled my shoulders as the doors shut before me and the elevator began it's descent.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because bad days often go from bad to worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least my bad days tend to go from bad to worse. ;p Hopefully y'all like this chapter! Thank you so much for the continued kudos, bookmarks & comments - you are all super awesome! <3

“So I'm real curious-” If it wasn't for the fact that I had almost possibly lost my job already once today I would have turned back around and walked out. I hadn't even taken two steps out of the elevator and Landon was waiting to verbally ambush me, his coffee mug cradled in his hands. It was his favorite mug because of the sexual innuendo in black lettering against the white mug that read ' _Blow Me. I'm Hot_ ' on it. He lifted it to his lips, smirking around it's rim.

“Landon, I'm _so_ not in the mood for your bullshit today.” I warned him knowing that, as per usual, Landon wouldn't listen. He never did. Self-entitled asshole that he was, anyway.

“-how _good_ is a fuck from a ninety-nine year old super soldier?”

I grit my teeth, and slammed my bag down on the long, shared desk, kicking my office chair out and plopped down on it harder than I meant to, wincing as the metal beneath the cushion offered hard resistance. I didn't answer, sticking to that old rule of thumb that if I'd ignore him enough he'd grow bored and leave me alone.

It was a vain hope but it was all I had at the moment. I clenched my jaw and rooted angrily through my bag though what I was looking for I didn't know. I wasn't really looking for anything in particular: just trying to enunciate that I was ignoring him. Or at least, putting strenuous effort towards it.

“I mean, Gem, I'm serious curious about this.” Landon persisted because he was Landon and that was what he did. He lived and breathed to annoy me. “Do you think he lasted longer than your other boy toy's? I mean he _is_ ninety-nine but he's a super soldier so his stamina is probably – man I dunno. Do you think his stamina is better than Thor's? If you had to guess?” I gave up digging pointlessly through my purse and pulled out my iphone with a gentleness I did not feel in the tension of my muscles and tossed my bag to the floor where it landed with a satisfying thump against the wall closest to me. Admittedly, it was only satisfying because I imagined it was Landon's head smacking against the wall. I set my phone down on the desk to my left and propped my elbows up on the desk, letting my eyes study the monitors set up on the wall, searching for Bucky as Landon continued his harassment.

“I swear to fucking hell if you don't _shut up_ I'm going to report you to HR for sexual harassment.”

I saw Landon sneer at me from the corner of his eye.

“And _I_ could report you to Director Fury and Coulson for fraternization. Work place romances are frowned upon but the _Avengers_ they're off limits _doll_.” My hand clenched into a fist around the pen I'd picked up to give myself something to hold since I had destroyed my last stress ball. I opened my ipad, unlocked it and typed in my access information.

“So was Sergeant Barnes gentle? Did he make love? Or did he fuck you rough?” I flexed my hand, dropping the pen and curled it back into a tight fist. “I remember you liked it rough.” He leered at me and I flew at him, grabbing his shirt collar in both of my fists, pushing him back, his chair slamming against the wall. His coffee spilled and he let out a yelp of surprise and pain. I hoped that coffee was piping hot.

“How would you know how I like it? We had a _one night stand_ Landon and for the record, you were the _worst_ lay I've ever had in my life.” I snarled at him, watching with satisfaction as he grimaced, his hands held up in surrender. “Bucky's _not like you_. Which is good because I've had my fucking fill of misogynist _pigs_ like you in my life.” I hissed at him, his pupils blowing wide in their brown irises.

“Ok-ok, I'm sorry, jesus Bane. I was just- just having some fun, alright?”

“The next time you have your sick, harassing fun at me or Bucky again I'm going to knock your teeth out.” I warned him lowly, and contemplated punching him just because he was there and his jaw was exposed to me. He was spared from my fist by a tormented cry that had came from the audio feed of FRIDAY's monitor of Bucky's apartment.

“sil'noe zhelaniye.” I heard a masculine voice say. I dropped Landon's shirt and gripped the desk edge, my eyes frantically searching the multiple monitors for any sign of Bucky.

“What the fuck is going on?” Landon asked, our altercation forgotten about by the both of us. I heard the creak of his chair as he rose from it and felt his presence from behind my left shoulder.

“Where the hell is Bucky...?” I drew my bottom lip between my teeth and chewed – an anxious habit of mine. Motion caught my eye on the monitor focused on the kitchen, where Steve crouched, his back arched, his tail low and puffed. He hovered protectively in front of a crouched dark mass almost entirely hid by the island.

“FRIDAY,” I called to the AI.

“How can I assist you Agent Bane?” Her mechanical voice came over the room's audio just as I saw a flash of vibranium move in the darkened corner.

“Prorzhavevshiy.”

“ _Stop_!” I heard Bucky gasp.

“Bane what the hell is happening?” Landon hissed at me – like I had the answers. I was annoyed but my heart was in my throat, trying to make sense of the words I didn't understand and trying to understanding where they were coming from.

“FRIDAY I need a report of all who is actively in Agent Barnes' apartment. Now!”

“James Buchanan Barnes, and Steve the cat.”

“So where is the voice coming from?” A shadowy figure appeared on the corner of the screen then, it's back to us, facing Bucky. Steve the cat let out a low hiss.

“That's impossible.”

“I only have two occupants logged.”

“Any security breaches?”

“No.”

“Translate the Russian spoken, FRIDAY.” I had a sinking feeling that my bad day was about to get worse.

“Semnadtsat'.”

“ _Stop!_ ” Bucky demanded in a rasping husky voice.

“Translate complete. Longing, Rusted and Seventeen, ma'am.”

“The activation words.” I whispered and grabbed my phone, pushing past Landon. “Put Stark Tower on lockdown but don't turn on the alarms.” I commanded him.

“No alarms? The Tower's security has been _breached_ and FRIDAY could be compromised, and your precious Bucky is about to become The Winter Soldier-”

“Landon, I don't have time to argue. If you set off the alarms whoever is triggering Winter is going to stop taking his time. I need time to get down to Bucky's floor.”

“Are you _crazy_ Bane? Winter's going to kill you!” Landon shouted after me, cursed when the elevator doors slid closed behind me and pushed a series of buttons on the console. My phone buzzed and I unlocked it.

“Bane! Why did you order a lockdown? FRIDAY won't accept my override codes.” Stark's voice came over the phone as I placed it to my ear.

“We've had a security breach. One that FRIDAY didn't detect. Bucky's in trouble.”

“I'm coming for back up.”

“No!”

“Bane, Winter is going to _kill_ you.” I was tired of hearing that already. Like I didn't  _know_ Bucky could kill me.

“And you and Bucky are going to kill each other.” Tony was silent for a small measure of time – a rarity for the genius – before he finally conceded, “alright. But I'm going to swing around and get Capsicle. He's the only one that can breach Bucky in the Winter's head.”

I hung up the phone and slipped it into my back pocket as the elevator halted and the doors rolled open. My stomach was knotted, and my hands shook with adrenaline and fear as I walked to Bucky's door and entered my passcode and placed my palm to the pad.

“Agent Gemma Bane, access granted.” FRIDAY's voice came from the pad's speaker and the doors rolled open. A tall figure dressed in all black, military gear, his back to me, moved to Bucky's bedroom and I chased after him, side stepping Steve the cat who streaked into a different room, growling the entire time. He spat a hiss at me as I threw myself into the super soldier's bedroom to see the figure hop down off the balcony. The sound of weight colliding with the fire escape followed and I crawled out the window and grasped the railing, looking down at the drop from the balcony to the fire escape, my face paling. It was a large drop. A drop easy for a super soldier – but I _wasn't_ a super soldier.

“Fuck.” I swore under my breath, hoisted myself up onto the railing and flung myself off of it, slamming against the railing of the fire escape, just barely grasping it. My fingers slipped once. For a second I panicked and grabbed it tighter hoisting myself up with a painful gasp from my screaming ribcage. As soon as my boots touched the metal I propelled myself down the steps, landing hard on my feet when I dropped from the fire escape to the pavement. I saw the man climb in a black SUV and I hurried down the alley towards him, gasping for breath, my ribcage and lungs burning.

I was so focused on reaching the mysterious figure, no doubt HYDRA, that I hadn't been paying attention to anything else.

I was waylaid.

I didn't hear the tell tale whirl and shink of the plates in his vibrarium arm until the hand was yanking me back without an ounce of gentleness. My back collided roughly with Bucky's chest and his flesh hand wrapped around my throat. I let out a strangled gasp, my fingers going to his hand. There was pressure in his grip, enough to scare me but not enough to actually cut off my air flow.

“Kill her.” Rumlow demanded but Winter's grip on my throat didn't tighten. I tried to pry his fingers loose from my throat but a warning squeeze was given to my hip with his vibranium hand. It was subtle enough that unless Rumlow had super sight he would not have noticed. I fidgeted nervously, taking a step back, pressing the heel of my military issued boot against the toes of Winter's own. I was aware of Winter's warm breath on the back of my neck, the heat rolling off his body. My body wanted to press back against his, but I was confused and, if I was being honest, scared. Everyone today had reminded me unnecessarily that Winter would kill me, perhaps he still would. The truth was that if The Winter Soldier wanted me dead I'd be dead already; and while Rumlow had given him a direct order he had yet to actually obey it. So was he Bucky? Did Bucky learn how to fight HYDRA's influences on him? I didn't know, and presently, there was no way for me to tell. Nothing was certain.

Rumlow's face – half of it scarred from fire – slowly became smug a smirk tugging the corners of his ruined mouth up in a lecherous sneer that made me scoff and then choke on it when Winter's fingers tightened around my throat.

“So The Winter Soldier remembers you,” Rumlow drew, his brows rising. I glared at him, wishing that I was a meta human and that my vision could burn a hole straight through him. “Kill her or keep her Winter, just make up your mind we can't stay here.” I felt Bucky's breath saturate my hair at my neck, his index finger tapping against my jugular in thought.

“If you're going to kill me,” I gasped around his hand, my words low – meant only for his ears. “Just do it.” I spat at him. I hated these prolonged moments of not knowing. I hated those over heightened, dragged out scenes of anticipation in movies too. This was just like that – met with the same level of annoyance – except instead of some fictional character's life on the line it was mine instead. In it's own way it was horrifying.

“If I wanted you dead,” Winter's lips were at my ear, his voice low and husky, the rough stubble on his chin scratching lightly against the skin of my cheek, his lips hot where they brushed against the skin of my ear. My grip on his flesh arm tightened, my nails digging into his skin. My skin tingled from the touch, my breath leaving my parted lips involuntarily in a stimulus reaction. I knew that Winter wasn't Bucky but he _was_. The Winter Soldier and Bucky were one person in reality. “You'd be dead already, _doll_.” He breathed into my ear, his lips curling into a bastard's grin against my flesh his fingers splaying, spreading out along my neck until his index finger and middle finger pressed against my jaw, brushing lower, following the curve of my shoulder where he gripped it hard in his flesh hand and gave me a push forward, toward the black SUV's. I climbed in, and froze when I noticed that I'd be sitting sandwiched between Bucky and Rumlow. I cringed, visibly and reluctantly slid across the seat, trying to make myself as small as I possible could. I didn't want to touch Rumlow. Not our shoulders, not our thighs. _Nothing_. When Bucky slid in beside me and slammed the door closed I was plastered against his side.

“I don't bite, Bane.” Brock Rumlow cooed with a smirk and despite my better judgment I looked up into his face. His smile was like butter – smooth even on the ruined half of his face – but it was a lecherous thing and I inherently didn't trust it. Not that I trusted him at all. I heard about him in my training. A double agent for HYDRA working under the guise of being a SHIELD agent. “I heard Winter bites hard.” I rolled my eyes and stared straight ahead at the highway as we sped down it.

“I'll take my chances.”

I hoped that I was right in my assumption that it was actually Bucky – for I doubted The Winter Soldier would ever call me _doll_ ; and I hoped that Bucky knew what the hell he was doing. If he didn't or if it actually was The Winter Soldier, well... I shuddered to think of it because then I was in some deep trouble. Looking back on this morning – waking up to Bucky and flirting with him I realized my sole mistake: I should have listened to and stayed in bed with him. Perhaps if I had I might have been jobless but at least we wouldn't be where we were now.

I tried to console myself with the thought that the day couldn't possibly get any worse than it already was.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for the continued kudos, comments & bookmarks! c: I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. My schedules is a little tight starting tomorrow through Saturday so I'm not sure when I'll have the next chapter written & uploaded! Hopefully it won't be too long of a wait. <3 Also, because I have a thing for references there's a Captain America: The Winter Soldier reference hidden in here! :p

We drove for hours, leaving New York far behind us and the longer I sat there, sandwiched between Rumlow and Bucky, the more time I had to process what was happening: we were being kidnapped, clearly. I had to battle my growing anxiety to decide what I was going to do about it. I was scared, I needed to acknowledge that. If I didn't accept that I was terrified then I wouldn't be able to face it. I couldn't let it paralyze me. I peeked a glimpse at Bucky ...or Winter – I still wasn't sure if he was the Winter Soldier or my Bucky and I wasn't sure if I could trust him – and looked away when I realized he was staring straight ahead. I had to go forward assuming that I was on my own to come up with a plan and execute it. I couldn't rely on him because calling me doll wasn't enough of an assurance. I knew Bucky remembered everything he did as Winter but I didn't know if that proverbial door swung the other way or not. I had to assume that it did and that Bucky was compromised.

Ironic, given that Director Fury and I had just had a conversation about this earlier in the morning; but the notion of me hurting Bucky was one I habitually wanted to shut down. I nervously picked at the chipped black polish on my nails. I was scared and suddenly tired, my ribcage ached and I was growing hungry.

“Can we stop for food? I'm starving.” I piped up, glaring at the shaded gaze of the man driving the car. The driver let out a low snort, as if my audacity amused him. “I'm being serious.” I knew that typically demands weren't made by the kidnapped but I couldn't coherently think on an empty stomach, and neither was it an ideal state for escaping them. I wouldn't get very far if my stomach hurt because of physical exertion and no food to fuel it.

Besides it had been a long time since I'd last eaten. The sun had begun to set into the sky while we'd been driving and it was rapidly becoming dark outside.

“There's fast food restaurants at the airport,” It was Rumlow that spoke up, unintentionally telling me that _he_ was the one in charge of this mission. That didn't entirely surprise me.

An airport...plenty of escape routes, and if it was big enough I could lead them on a wild goose chase and hopefully slip away. Something I could work with. “You can get food there.” Rumlow smirked as if he found something amusing about that. His smirk sent chills up my spine – and not the good kind.

“Gee, thanks.” I didn't even know where we were – or where we were going, only that I didn't want to reach our final destination; and loathe as I was to face it, as sick as it made my stomach feel, I considered the fact that I might have to leave Bucky behind. If he was Winter he wasn't going to cooperate with me anyway, but Bucky was still in there and the thought of abandoning him to the horrors of HYDRA made bile rose in my throat. Abandoning him would be my last resort, but I couldn't _tell_ Bucky my plan – not if he was Winter. There were too many holes but I didn't have time to compose a better plan.

I was winging something that I definitely shouldn't wing.

 

I took the falsified passport and plane ticket Rumlow handed me, and took a deep breath. I made to step away from Rumlow, only to feel every muscle pull taunt in my body when I felt his hand grab my wrist. His other hand touched my cheek, for the benefit of the sleepy commuters and workers around us. I flinched back instinctively. “Be a good girl Bane, do as the Asset tells you. I don't think I have to tell you what is going to happen if you attempt to warn anyone.”

Them sending Bucky with me was better than Rumlow himself escorting me. I clenched my jaw and nodded, turning away from him when he released my wrist, the burn of his harsh touch still lingering across my skin. I didn't even wait for Bucky, instead stalked towards the fast food restaurant past the security as the Rumlow led his HYDRA agents to our gate.

The teenage girl behind the counter looked bored out of her mind, her elbow resting against the counter, using her hand to hold up her head as she flipped through a newsstand magazine. She had blank hair with mint green highlights, several piercings and a flash of ink beneath the collar of her shirt – a tattoo. I went up to her, sensing Bucky's presence physically close behind me but I didn't dare look at him.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when he moved to my side and took my hand in his vibranium hand. His grip was firm but it was not the same grip that Rumlow exerted upon my wrist. Bucky wasn't reminding me who was in charge. If we weren't in the situation we were in I would have found the gesture romantic. Instead, I was weary of it. Torn between wanting to believe that he'd found a way to fight HYDRA and wanting to shut him out – push him away until I could find a way to free myself and then free him.

HYDRA needed Bucky...needed The Winter Soldier and I did not worry for his life as I did my own. He was their greatest _Asset_ and their presence here and now was enough to confirm it. The Winter Soldier was their best and biggest player on the board and without him they were trapped, close to being beaten.

They'd already done the worst of the worst to him – there wasn't anything left they could do to him – or so this was what I told myself in case I would need it as justification later. If it came to leaving Winter behind.

“What can I get you?” The cashier asked as if she'd rather be anywhere than where she was – like we were bothering her. Normally, this would have annoyed me but as I had more pressing concerns then a teenager with a bad attitude as we stopped in front of the counter.

“Two of your everything burger meals, and two large malted milkshakes.”

“Milkshakes?” I asked him after he pulled out the cash to pay for it as I patted my pockets remembering that everything – my keys, my cards – had been left back at Stark Tower. Except when I patted my front pocket I felt the hard surface of my iphone. I'd forgotten I'd slipped it into my pants pocket and hoped that Bucky hadn't noticed my hesitation.

“I guess I'm just old fashioned.” It _had_ to be Bucky. The Winter Soldier had displayed amnesia towards who he was before. Being out of cryo sleep had been when they had began to come back to him. There had been a vintage 40's diner in the small town I'd grown up in and they traditionally served milkshakes with burgers and fries. Bucky leaned his hip against the counter as we waited, though the wait wasn't long at all given that we were the restaurant's only customers. The cashier put our orders on a tray and I took it, letting out a startled noise of protest when he dropped my hand and plucked the tray from my grip, lifting it over my head.

“Woah! You're The Winter Soldier!” The girl gushed, life snapped back into her as Bucky's vibranium hand snapped her out of her attitude. Her eyes – a pretty green I noticed as I looked at her in slight shock – studied us with renewed interest. “Are you guys a couple? Are you heading on a mission?” She amended, studying my work uniform with the SHIELD logo on my shoulder.

“We're on leave, actually. We're getting married,” The lie fell so easily from Bucky's lips, as if he was anticipating this sort of question.

“Oh man, that's _so_ cool. Are the other Avengers going? Is _Thor_ going to be there?”

“No, it's a very private ceremony.” And with that Bucky led me away to the table the furthest from the counter, set the tray down and hesitated in front of my chair before he set down in the chair across from where I stood. Slowly, I pulled my chair out and sat down, thanking him instinctively when he handed me a burger, fries and one of the shakes.

“That was quick thinking back there,” I commended him in a clipped tone. “Good job _Asset_.”

The look that Bucky shot me was far from amused. It wasn't his fault and I knew I was being cruel but he could have given me more than an extremely subtle sign that he was still Bucky earlier. I unwrapped my burger and took a bite of it.

“I have to be careful,” Bucky spoke lowly, using his burger as a shield to hide the fact that he was talking to me. “Rumlow's never activated The Winter Soldier before, he doesn't know that you have to complete the sequence in order for it to work in full. I mean there are ...parts of me shut down and parts of Winter activated but not entirely.”

“How can I trust you?” Bucky's expression was wounded for a second before it became impassive and hard.

“Not enough of Winter,” Bucky insisted, eyes boring into me. The color of steely oceans. “You have to trust me.” It was all Bucky said on the matter and we ate in silence, though his eyes were imploring. I studied him, knowing that I had to make my decision and that I had to make it quick.

“I do trust you.” I spoke finally as I tucked my wrapper into my empty fry box and took the last sip of my milkshake. He rose with a rigid fluidity, the tray grasped in his hand as he walked it over to the disposal counter.

I followed him out of small restaurant and into the terminal area, my stomach in knots. Rumlow and his men watched our progression with disinterest except Rumlow who was sneering at me with a lecher's smirk once more.

I glanced at the clock every five seconds after Bucky and I sat down, wondering if I'd been duped, if Winter knew of my feelings for Bucky and had twisted them against me, beat me into compliance without having to lift a finger. My throat constricted and my fingers tapped restlessly against my knee.

I stood up abruptly, my eyes flashing down to where Rumlow's hand shot out and wrapped around my wrist once more. “Where are you going, princess?”

“I have to use the restroom,” I snarled at him, yanking my wrist free. “Flying makes me nervous.” I snapped, stepping around him.

“Asset.” Rumlow commanded with a gesture of his fingers.

“Like I can't go to the bathroom by myself, jesus fucking christ.” I mumbled, punching as much annoyance into that line as I could muster, playing off of my nerves, brushing harshly past Bucky as I stormed towards the bathroom, glad that it was out of Rumlow's sight, and if Bucky's assumption was correct: that Rumlow thought he'd activated enough of The Winter Soldier even with the incomplete sequence for Bucky to follow his commands without question.

I tried to keep my pace harsh and even though I wanted to break out in a run. When we were out sight of Rumlow and his men Bucky's flesh hand took my own and pulled me towards double doors with 'RESTRICTED AREA: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY' that he pushed open and moved he through them before he stepped outside.

We hurried down the steps and then we were running towards a lone, sleek black jet with 'STARK INDUSTRIES' printed on it in golden lettering. Bucky procured a set of keys from his pocket and jingled them with a slightly cocky grin tugging at the edges of his lips.

He pulled the stairs down with no effort, unlocked the door and gestured for me to enter the jet. “Courtesy of Stark.” I gasped suddenly and procured my phone from my pocket, and pried it out of it's case.

“They can track us through this.” I cringed as I thought about what I was about to do before I threw it down onto the ground and stepped on it, crushing it beneath my weight before I climbed into the jet, watching as Bucky pulled up the stair case and closed the door, locking it behind him. It was like a driving RV inside: a bathroom, a bed room, a table, and four plush seats, even had it's own bar. Bucky went to the cock pit and I followed him, sliding into the plush co-pilot seat as he flipped a switch and the jet engines roared to life. He pulled on a set of headphones with a speaker.

I watched in quiet awe as he flipped more switches, took the flight control in his hands and when the jet was ready we began to roll down the runway. I looked out the cockpit's window as he maneuvered the runway as if he'd been a pilot for all his life. He spoke to the control tower as I buckled my seat belt, and when they gave us the all clear, the engines roared, the plane thrumming with power – like the roar of an angered beast, before we were propelled forward, pushing me back against the seat and we were up in the air, the ground rushing away from us.

The further we got away from Rumlow and his men the more at ease I felt. Suddenly, I was felt tired in my bones from the weight of my anxiety and fear. “Where did you learn to steal a plane?” I asked him, stealing a look at his face accented by the lights of the cock pit and the moonlight.

“Nazi Germany. And we're borrowing. I figured Stark wouldn't miss it too much.”

“How-how did you know to grab the keys?” I asked, unable to make sense of that much.

“I've been carrying them with me for a month or so – never knew when I was going to have to hide for a while. If there's one thing I should thank HYDRA for it's for teaching me to cover all my bases and my tracks.” Bucky's tone was dry as he spoke it, bitter.

“Stark's going to kill you – or HYDRA is going to find us. Which ever comes first.”

“Eventually,” Bucky allowed with a soft sigh. “I'm hoping to have bought a few weeks, at most.”

I closed my eyes as Bucky flipped a few more switched and input coordinates into the plane's GPS. I had begun to doze off when I felt his arms lift my from the chair – his flesh hand supporting my upper torso while his vibranium arm was tucked under my legs. I stirred, disoriented when I felt him lay me on the bed. In that state of being partially asleep and partially awake I thought I felt the scratch of his scruff against and warm lips against my cheek, but fell into a deep sleep when I felt the weight of the bed shift as Bucky presumably settled into it beside me.

 


	7. Chapter 7

I woke as Bucky shook me gently. I drew in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly up at him, disoriented for a moment, seeking him out because he was familiar, and then the memories of the previous day and night came flooding back to me in a rush. “We've landed,” Bucky told me with a soft smile, his gaze met mine for a moment before it lowered. I pushed myself up into a sleeping position.

“Did you sleep?” I asked him, still groggy. “I didn't hear you have any nightmares.”

Bucky inhaled deeply and let it out in a heavy sigh, as if he were bearing a great burden. “A little,” He admitted simply. My brow furrowed in confusion but I didn't press him.

“Thank you for saving me.” I leaned in and hesitated, gauging his reaction, to make sure that he was ok with the lack of space, and pressed a kiss to his cheek, rough with his stubble. A soft noise rumbled from his throat as I moved back, putting the space between us. I knew better to invade his space without his permission. Besides being simple common courtesy it was important not to let myself forget that no matter how gentle Bucky might have been with me he was still dangerous and violent. He didn't trust other people – as proven by the extensive testing and processes I had to go through all of which included Bucky himself to be assigned to him – and was hyper-vigilant, a common militaristic behavior. There was no telling when one action – even a small one meant to assure or express my gratitude might be misconstrued to be a threat and that didn't even include when Winter was activated.

Bucky said nothing, simply looked at me through his long, pretty eyelashes.

“So where are we?” I asked casually, pushing myself off the bed across from him, stretching my stiff muscles, as if we regularly escaped HYDRA operatives and stole Stark's jets and traveled half way across the world.

“Wakanda.” Bucky responded simply rising to his feet in a stiff movement I saw as I glanced at him over my shoulder, leaving the bedroom. I went to the nearest window and peered out of it. Through the green canopy of the jungle converging around the runway I could see the magnificent and towering citadels and buildings. Wakanda was the country T'Challa ruled and one of the most technologically advanced countries in the world.

“Why Wakanda?” I inquired of him, pulling away from the window, startled to find how close Bucky was.

“I called in a favor,” He rummaged through the jet's drawers, shoving things that I couldn't see in a small, black backpack with Stark Industries printed in gold stitching on it. “Here,” He threw clothing at me. “You and Pepper are about the same size, change into them.” I immediately didn't like this, but Bucky didn't look at me, continuing to stuff things in the bag. A phone – no doubt connected to FRIDAY – what looked like a platinum credit card (if I was right I would have to remind Tony not to let valuables laying around like that). I didn't particularly feel right about stealing Pepper's clothes but Bucky hadn't sounded like there'd been much room for negotiation in his tone, so clutched them to my chest and went into the jet's small bathroom. I got a quick shower and dressed in the expensive and designer, chic black jumpsuit and heels I had grabbed from their place beside the door, thankful that Pepper's clothes fit me perfectly but that so too did her shoes. I felt overdressed, but we _were_ in Wakanda and we were fugitives. The best thing we could do was blend in, so I was confused when after I brushed my hair and pinned it up that Bucky hadn't changed. I considered that Tony was smaller than the super soldier and didn't think much of it.

I watched, with his back still to me, as Bucky zipped up the back pack and turned to me, clutching it in his hands. I was taller with the heels on, so I didn't have to tilt my head back so much to look into his eyes. For a long moment we simply stared, and Bucky swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing hard in his throat with the action. Under normal circumstances I might have felt uncomfortable in such posh clothing but beneath the intensity of his gaze I felt a burning in my cheeks, flattered.

“You look beautiful, doll.” He murmured, as if he were having trouble finding volume. Gone was the flirt, and in it's place was ...something else. Not something I identified easily because I'd never had a man look at me without anything but lust in his gaze before.

“Thanks.” I murmured, watching as he bounced on his heels once. “So about this favor you called in?”

“You're under The Black Panther's protection in Wakanda. He agreed to give you shelter until it's safe for the other Avengers to come extract you.”

“Your use of “you're” would imply that you're dropping me off here.” I pointed out, more stern that I had meant to but fear had risen and balled in my throat, tight.

“I can't protect you-”

“I don't _need you_ to protect me Bucky. I've been trained by Nat who was trained by _you_ -”

“ _Enough_!” Bucky yelled at me, the whirl and shink of the metal plates of his vibranium arm loud in the small jet as his metal hand clenched into a tight fist. I recoiled back on instinct, subconsciously recognizing him as a threat and then instantly felt bad about flinching at the pained look that flitted across his face. He struggled for a moment, his thick brows furrowing. “HYDRA is hunting me and as long as we're together they'll target you. You're a liability, Gemma. Next time Rumlow's going to finish the activation words and I'll kill you – if that's what he tells me to do, and he will. Men like Rumlow don't like to lose, and he won't stop. Or what if he captures you?”

“Then you _leave_ me!” My voice had raised, despite that I understood that arguing with him was useless, and childish. I shouldn't have been. I knew this. I should have accepted his decision to leave. I knew he worked better on his own, I knew that Bucky was self-resistant; but it was _hard_ and at that moment I understood why I was struggling to let him do what he wanted and why it hurt for him to stand here and push me away. I was falling in love with him. “Bucky, you don't have to do this alone.”

“I couldn't leave you. I – I can't and that's the _problem_! I can't let anything happen to you, Gemma. I can't lose you. And the only way you'll be safe is away from me. You can't save me, alright? I _have_ to do this alone.”

I blinked away the tears that had collected at the brim of my eyelids.

“Ok.” I accepted finally.

“It'll be alright, doll.” His flesh hand – while his vibranium one held the backpack – reached up to touch my cheek. I leaned into his touch, grabbing onto his hand against my cheek, holding it there, soaking up the feel of his calloused fingers against my skin. I stretched up on my tiptoes, placing my free hand on his shoulder, feeling the hard vibranium beneath his flesh to support his bones and muscles with the support of the arm and placed a small kiss on his lips – a soft peck.

He was still for a moment, before I was pushed roughly back against the thin, fiberglass wall that separated the seating of the jet from the bedroom. Though he'd been rough, his body hard and hot where he pressed it against mine, his kisses were surprisingly soft. Each kiss brought more with it, spoke things that he and I had left unspoken. My hand cupped the back of his neck, tangling in this long hair as his vibranium hand found the small of my back and pressed me against him.

When Bucky broke the kiss I let him, taking a step back.

“Good luck Bucky. Stay safe out there.” I told him, before I turned and opened the door and descended the jet's steps towards the black, heavily tinted car waiting for me. T'Challa stood outside it with a driver and bodyguard, dressed to the nines in a crisp, fitted suit.

“Lady Gemma,” T'Challa greeted me, kissing my hand when I held it out to him at his gesture.

“Your highness.” I greeted him with the best curtsy I could manage though I was a bit rusty on my customs of greeting royalty.

“Come, we shouldn't linger. I've had a room prepared for you at my palace.” T'Challa gestured and we slid in the car when his bodyguard held the door open for us. I watched Stark's jet fade off into the distance, turning to face the front when it faded out of my view hating that I was leaving Bucky behind, even if I hadn't been given a choice. My heart was heavy but I put on a brave smile, knowing that Bucky was resourceful and he could take care of himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I felt that the Bucky I was beginning to portray might not be all that realistic to CA:TCW Bucky and even though I have yet to see CA:TCW I want to try (at the very least) to write him accurately as I can manage to Seb's Bucky. So given that, I did some research and re-watched the Captain America movies and came up with this little twist. I have clear goal in mind of what's going to happen so don't worry too much. This is a love story, after all. ;-)


	8. Chapter 8

I had spent two weeks in Wakanda until Nat had came knocking to collect me from an anonymous tip I suspected to be Bucky and take me back to New York. My life had resumed to pre-Bucky normalcy though I couldn't deny that it didn't feel the same and I realized as I had emptied a carton of fudge swirl ice cream one night that I felt _empty_. I missed Bucky, deeply; and I worried for him. There was no going back to a time before Bucky. I hadn't meant to fall in love with the most emotionally damaged of the Avengers. I hadn't meant to but I _had_ and I felt his absence as if something vital were missing from me. I had taken Steve the cat from the _actual_ Steve who had claimed allergies of the feline and relocated Bucky's pet to my apartment where he'd began to adjust rather well without all the noise that Stark Tower generated. But like me, I could tell that Steve the cat missed Bucky too. At night, I'd hear him meowing into the hallway, calling, waiting for a reply from his human that would never come. It was only as I apologized and assured him that I missed Bucky too that Steve the cat would jump up on my bed and curl up close to my side and fall asleep.

Fury hadn't been happy about me “letting” Bucky go like I had. His punishment for my failings was demoting me back to paper pusher, taking “field agent” away from me, and to my utter surprise I hadn't argued with him. I accepted the reprimand and demotion with grace, even though it meant I spent a lot of time in Landon's obnoxious presence.

Six months passed and summer had turned to winter, reminding me of my soldier out there somewhere, hunting or maybe finding himself. As much as I didn't like the idea of him taking on HYDRA alone I knew he was the only one that could do it. They feared him as much as they revered him – that was why they had wiped his memories, why they had put him in cyro between missions. He might have been their asset, their _fist_  but he was also their destruction. They had created a double edged sword when they had kidnapped Bucky Barnes.

I had modestly decorated my apartment for the Christmas, stringing aesthetic indoor/outdoor lights on a pine tree that I had to chase Steve the cat from. He'd broken three ornaments and climbed the fake tree at least seven times.

I scowled at him from where he lounged close to the tree-skirt, turning the volume down on the channel where they filled the entire month of December with romance/holiday movies. It was a sappy thing but I loved them, those romance novel-esque movies where in the end the girl always got the guy and life had a fairy-tale feel and ending to it.

“I'm watching you Steve.” I warned him as I stood with a stretch and poured myself a cup of coffee, fixing it how I liked it: with just a bit of cream. I took the first sip, letting it warm me up from the inside out when a insistent knock came at my door. I set the mug down, peered out the peep hole and opened the door to face Nat, bundled up in a black jacket, her red hair with melting bits of snow caught in it's fiery tendrils. Her eyes were rimmed red, I realized, as the master assassin looked at me; instantly I was alarmed.

Seeing The Black Widow cry was not something I had thought I would ever see. Dread pooled in my stomach like ice and for a moment I couldn't seem to find the words I knew I did not want to ask but needed to be regardless.

“Nat, what happened?”

“It's Steve.” The red-head took a deep breath as if she were trying to compose herself and failing. I grabbed my coat off the hook, turned off my tv, put my freshly made mug of coffee in the sink and headed out the door and followed after her to a black SHIELD issued car waiting at the curb. We climbed in and I could not shake the chill that had set into my bones – a chill that had nothing to do with the winter night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is really short and probably really crappy as it's just a "filler" chapter (so to speak) - I promise chapter nine makes up for it! Since this chapter is short and I've already finished writing chapter nine I'll have that uploaded tomorrow! As always, thank you all so much for reading this, giving it kudos, dropping me comments & bookmarking it! It means a lot to me! <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised: chapter nine!

“Gemma,” Nat grabbed my hand to stop me as my hand hovered over the identification pad of the medical ward that Steve was in. “Listen, Steve he's-just be prepared.” The master assassin struggled for words before she let go of my hand and swiped her fingers under her eyelids, blinking back her tears. Honestly, I was more disturbed by her tears than I was anything else at this point, despite that she had not been forthcoming about what was actually wrong with Steve. “Let me go first, ok?” I stepped back for her and let her go in first before I stepped over the threshold behind her, my shoulders tense as I physically prepared myself.

“Hey there, Cap,” Nat greeted him, trying to sound cheerful despite that there was a waver in her voice. This was unusual for the Black Widow who, even in the worst of times, I'd seen utterly composed and calm.

I wasn't prepared for what I saw. Steve was hooked up to a lot of machinery – some regular hospital machinery and some of it of Stark and Banner's own design. My mind instantly rejected what I saw as I looked to the bed. I had noticed that Steve had been looking haggard the past couple of times I had seen him over the months but I had brushed it off as stress and worry over Bucky. It turned out that I assumed very wrong. The man laying in the bed was ...old. I had gotten used to seeing Steve as young as he'd been in World War II. It was more bizarre for me to see him as he should have been: elderly and frail.

“You were crying again Nat.” Steve accused with a small coughing fit following.

“I brought a visitor with me,” Nat stepped aside and ignored his accusation and I swallowed thickly as I saw that she had taken his hand, moving so that Steve could see me. His face lit up, in natural friendly Steve fashion and I felt my heart in my throat.

“Hey Steve.” I greeted him, giving my throat a small clear when I noticed that my voice was thick from the emotion that I was trying so hard to conceal. I couldn't make sense of what I saw even though it was obviously Steve and this: Steve being elderly was how it  _should_ have been.

“Gemma. How's Steve the cat?” He asked me with a smile and a twinkle in his blue eyes as I drew near.

“He's good. Trouble,” I managed a smile at him as he laughed. “he likes to climb my Christmas tree.”

“Guess we know why Buck called him Steve,” A fond smile spread across Steve's lips. “Any word on Bucky's location?”

Nat made an impatient noise in her throat and sat down on the edge of his bed as if she were afraid that if she took up too much space she might break him. “I told you we're trying to find him, Steve. He'll crop up eventually. His kills are hard to find but I'm working on it.”

I tried to keep the puzzlement off of my face. Nat was lying to him, likely to appease him because it didn't look like he had long to live. Still, I didn't like it. I didn't want to lie to Steve. As to my knowledge no one had extended effort to find Bucky, figuring he would either wander back here when he'd done what he needed to or he wouldn't. Not many trusted Bucky and I had a feeling that there wouldn't be many (if any besides Steve and myself) that would be broken hearted if he never returned.

“Gemma can help with the investigation. Maybe she knows-”

“Steve.” Nat warned in a soft tone.

“Nat,” Steve returned, looking from her to me.

“You'll help right, Gemma? I need to see Buck before-before the serum kills me.” I bit on my bottom lip, fighting the hot tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks. “I _need_ to talk to Bucky. It's important. Banner says that something went wrong with the serum and as you can see it's causing me to age rapidly.”

“Steve-”

“Nat, you heard Banner. There's nothing he can do. It's irreversible, it isn't curable. Just please, Nat, don't fight me on this.” It was kind of painful to see an elderly Steve begging Nat. I knew Nat was just trying to protect him from the truth but he clearly didn't want to hear it because even though his body was failing him he was still Steve.

“Of course I'll help Steve.” I agreed, ignoring the glare that Nat shot my way. I didn't know if Bucky would still have the phone he'd stolen from Stark's jet but it was a start, at least. I drew near to him, and knelt down and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Don't worry Steve. I'll do everything I can to find Bucky and bring him back.” I promised and rose, moving to the door. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Tony's number.

“Ariel, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He answered on the third ring.

“Stark, are you in the tower?” I asked as I headed towards the elevator, my heart in my throat, because not for the first time I was about to break all sort of regulations. I couldn't think of the repercussions now, nor the danger I was without a doubt walking into.

“Yep, I'm in my toy room. Are you stopping by?” He asked distractedly on the other end of the phone.

“You bet your ass I am. We need to talk.” I told him him as I punched the button for the second highest floor in the tower.

“I'll buzz you in.” Stark told me before I hung up and settled back against the elevator, taking a few deep breaths. The elevator doors opened and I stepped through into a small hallway that was blocked by heavy set, metal doors.

“Welcome Agent Bane.” FRIDAY's voice greeted me as the doors slid open and I stepped into Tony's workshop. A half circle of advanced computer screens dominated the middle of it, set up on a platform. Across the back wall was a collection of his Iron Man suits in what appeared to be glass tubes, illuminated by lighting beneath and above, their surfaces glinting. Stark pushed away one of his robot claw things – the one wearing the dunce hat – and rose from his chair.

“So I'm assuming this isn't purely a social visit.” He stepped around his monitors and down off the platform drawing near to me. He was taller than me, handsome, of course. His goatee was neatly trimmed, his hair mussed atop his head but in a manner that screamed 'I just got out of someone else's bed'.

“Not exactly, Tony.” I admitted, unsure if I could even ask this of him. But if anyone had a penchant for breaking rules it was Tony Stark.

“Wow, first name basis. I feel honored.” I rolled my eyes at his jest. “So what's up, princess?”

“Look I'm going to keep this on a need to know basis but do you think I could borrow a jet?”

“You could always just steal one,” Tony suggested and my cheeks flushed red.

“I'm sorry about that-”

“Relax, Bane. I'm just yanking your chain. I barely even use them anymore. Pepper uses them more than I do and I've got ten of them.” I thought _ten_ private jets was excessive but that was just me and I wasn't a billionaire. “You went to see Capsicle, didn't you? This is about Barnes. Listen, Nat and I've _tried_ to find him and the guy doesn't want to be found. No doubt he's racking up a kill count but he's good at hiding his tracks. That's why for the longest time they didn't even think he existed. Barnes is called a ghost story for a good reason.” Tony lectured me.

“Yes," I countered quickly, "but did you know that when he left me in Wakanda he took a cell phone from your jet. Also, one of your credit cards.”

“Barnes should know better. Just because he's older than dirt doesn't give him the right to steal.” Tony grumbled and despite myself I giggled. The sound was foreign to me, but I brushed it off following him up on the platform. “Ok,” He settled into his chair and I stood behind it, focusing on the screen he'd enlarged via FRIDAY's projector, my hands gripping onto the back of it. “FRIDAY show me my latest credit card transactions from the past six months.”

“Right away, sir.” She replied and they popped up on the screen.

“Ah, these are all mine,” He replied and then leaned forward.

“Wait. Rome, London, Tokyo, Barcelona, Siberia...” The transactions for those cities were small – not enough to truly be noticed. “The guy's not a big spender, is he?” Tony murmured.

“He left a trail to follow.” I realized. Of course Bucky wasn't going to spend exorbitant amounts of Stark's money. He would have been found immediately, but these tiny transactions were subtle enough to slip beneath Tony's notice unless he knew what he was looking for.

“That's actually clever.” Tony said with heavy reluctance of admiration in his tone.

“Look!” I pointed over his shoulder. “He made a transaction this morning in Bucharest, Romania.”

“FRIDAY, I've got a rogue cell phone, pull up the location of all of my cell phones.” Three signals popped up. One in Stark Tower, one at Stark Industries and one in Bucharest, Romania. “I need an exact location on the phone in Romania, transmit the data to two of my suits.”

“The new ones, sir?”

“Yes, the new ones.”

“Wait, what?” I asked, alarmed when it sunk in that he'd said “suits” - as in more than one.

“You're gonna suit up, Bane.” Stark's grin was wide as he rose and headed towards the floor in front of the suits. The floor opened up and two suits rose: his classic iron man look: red and gold and a second suit, clearly designed with a woman's body in mind. It was slender and sleek: black and silver.

“I don't even know how to-”

“FRIDAY will take care of you Bane. She'll nav you to where we need to go, but you'll get the hang of it. The suit will respond to your moves, it'll be seamless,” Tony assured me as I came to a stand still beside him, giving a start as the suits hissed and opened, waiting for us to step inside them.

“I don't know about this Stark.” I was hesitant.

“I was gonna call her the Iron Maiden but Pepper reminded me there's probably copyright laws on that and Thor calls it the Iron Valkyrie so it stuck.”

“It looks like a metal death trap.” I pointed out tersely as he ignored my hesitation.

“Dead is what you'll be if you don't wear it. Besides, I thought you needed something to help you keep up with Robocop on missions.” Stark was beaming like a proud parent.

“Wait...you built this for _me_?”

“Yeah. Well, before Robocop bailed on the super secret boyband that is, but there's no better time to give it to you then now. If he's in Romania it's no doubt that's where HYDRA is and I don't think I'm the best candidate for convincing Barnes to return, besides he will probably kill me if you die.” Tony rocked back on his heels. “And that isn't something I'd like to repeat. He might actually succeed next time.”

He stepped into his suit and it closed around him. He inhaled deeply and let it out, stepping tentatively up to the Iron Valkyrie suit, admiring it for a moment before I turned around and took a step back into it, fitting myself into it, sucking in a startled breath as the suit slammed closed round me, hissing as it. It was dark and hot and I started to hyperventilate before FRIDAY came online and I took a greedy gasp of cool air as filtered in through the suit. I squinted against the onslaught of light, though it was almost as if I could see through the helmet, blocking out the eye-slots. I turned my head towards Stark who gave a little wave. FRIDAY's system began to analyze his suit, identifying him as Stark.

“You okay in there, Bane?” His voice came from inside the helmet.

“Uh, yeah. I guess it's too late to tell you I'm claustrophobic and afraid of heights, right?”

“No better way to conquer your fears then face them head on. I'm assuming we're doing this mission commando.”

“That's right. If you want to back out, I understand. I can handle it.”

“No way, Bane. The last time you ran off you were kidnapped by HYDRA. I've got your back and I'm not giving you any other option this time.”

I made to follow him and was surprised how seamlessly the suit responded to me, expecting it to be clunky and awkward. It wasn't. It reacted to me – like an exoskeleton as opposed to an suit.

“Ok, this is pretty cool.” I admitted as the wall split open, spilling daylight into the workshop. I joined Stark at the edge, and made the mistake of peering down, reaching for his arm and clutching it though I could feel the resistance of his suit's arm armor.

“Easy, Bane. You've got a lot more strength and power than you're used to and I need that arm.”

“Sorry.” I said sheepishly and let go of him.

“Are _you_ sure you want to do this?” He was looking at me, or at my suit at any rate. “I mean we know Barnes isn't dead but I mean, he could be like Steve.”

“I don't know. HYDRA's serum is no doubt different than the one Steve was injected with.” But I had to admit that it was a possibility. I'd always thought of Steve and Bucky as invincible. That clearly wasn't the case and I had to prepare myself for what we might find when we found Bucky's hideout. “but I need to do this, for Steve, so let's go.”

“FRIDAY, you know what to do.” The suit's flight system kicked on and we were soaring through the sky.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was sad to write but, well I will likely make myself cry in the next couple of chapters. I'm sorry Steve *whispers* :-(


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this chapter! I hope y'all enjoy it. As always, thank you so much for the kudos, comments & bookmarks. You are all the best! <3

The closer we got the the hideout – the more anxious I became. I was alert, and FRIDAY responded to my anxiety, affirming that there were no HYDRA agents directly beneath us. We landed – me with jarring impact of my most ungraceful landing upon the roof of Bucky's hideout. I took an uneven gasp and attempted to pry the helmet off.

“Hey, hey, hey princess! It doesn't come off like that.” On some command I couldn't hear FRIDAY was commanded to open the face of the suit's helmet to open. Not a lot but enough to give me fresh air which I sucked in greedily.

“FRIDAY open the suit, let me out.”

“Hey woah, FRIDAY do _not_ open Bane's suit.”

“ _Open the suit_ FRIDAY!”

“What are you doing?” Tony demanded, his helmet had slid open with a soft, metallic ' _shink_ ' noise to reveal his face, his brows raised at me with incredulity. “Did I not tell you that the suit was for your _safety_?”

“Yes and it got me here. Safely.” I spoke pointedly.

“Bane,” Stark protested throwing his hands up as FRIDAY opened the suit and I fell out of it, my knees and hands catching my collision with the cement roof, the gravel harsh where it dug and scraped against my skin. “You're going to get killed!”

I rolled my eyes. I was tired of everyone telling me that. “I'm _serious_.” Tony punctuated with a flamboyant sigh.

“Listen to me Stark. He's going to flip out if he sees the suit, alright? If he can't recognize me he's going to attack me. You know it as much as I do.”

“And what if he doesn't recognize you? Huh? What if he's Winter and he kills you? You'd be defenseless against him. That was the whole point of the suit!”

“That's what you're here for, right?” I asked him over my shoulder as I stood, brushed my knees off and reached into the suit grasping a detachable ear piece and fitting it into my ear. “We'll stay in contact. Let me know if you see any HYDRA and if I need you in there I'll ...I'll say uh, 'winter is coming'.” I didn't pause to consider the completely irony of my choice of code phrase and didn't notice Tony eyes roll at my reference.

“Clever.” Tony remarked sourly before he inhaled deeply and let it out in a slow exhale. I shot him a tentative smile before I went to the door, opened it and slipped inside, taking a deep breath of the musty, stale air of the abandoned apartment building as the heavy metal door slammed closed behind me. Emergency lights were operational, at least, shrouding the windowless descent to the lower floor in a tentative glow. At least it wasn't pitch black. I hadn't considered it and felt like of stupid for pushing the whole “going suitless” thing now that I was actually _in_ the building. It was falling into disrepair but it still had power, or a generator. Trash littered the floor and I choked on a breath, pulling my shirt up to cover my nose, horrified that Bucky was _living_ here, unable to fathom why the apartment building was left to ruin. Beneath the ruinous aspects it was easy to see that it had been ritzy once upon a time: marble floors and elegant décor beneath layers of dust and cobwebs. It was cold on this floor, I could see my breath leave my lips in white furls and I tried not to think about it, shivering as the cold prickled at my skin.

I moved slowly, stepping over things trying not to think about the rodents or insects that were probably also inhabiting this building.

“Stark is there any way to tell which floor Bucky inhabiting? I really don't want to have to crawl into these apartments to see if there's signs of life if I don't have to.” It felt like something out of a horror movie: the kind where something heinous was about to jump out at me and chase me or kill me.

“Already ahead of you. The generator is routed to the seventeenth floor, the fourth apartment from the elevator to the left. That's three floors below you. Since it's running on a generator I doubt the elevator will be working. You'll have to find the staircase. When you reach the end of the hall it's at the very end of the left wing.”

“Thanks, Stark.” I told him as I continued my slow progression along the hall.

“Just...be careful in there Bane.”

“Yes, sir.” I said in mock salute, rounding the corner and heading to the left. “Jesus, Stark, this place is like something out of a horror film.” I commented, needing to talk to the genius keeping watch on the roof, to distract myself from the nerves. The longer I was in this building, the longer I began to lose my steel nerve. It was slowly turning to jelly and I was beginning to let my doubts and fear of the eerie building consume me.

“Come on Bane. We came all this way. Robocop obviously wanted you to be able to find him, else he wouldn't have left the trail. If your feelings for him aren't enough motivation: do it for Cap. We don't know how long he's going to hold on. He's a fighter but it's-”

Stark didn't have to finish his sentence. We all knew that Steve would hold on for as long as he could but that eventually the serum was going to win and I _had_ promised to bring him Bucky, no matter the personal cost to me. This wasn't just about me. No doubt if Steve were able, he'd be here too, and I used that to boost my confidence, steeling my shoulders as I shimmied my way between the parted, rusted gate that closed off the staircase.

I had to be brave, like Steve would be, whether I was about to face Bucky or Winter.

I kept moving, slowly, alarmed for weakened floors or tripping over things that I probably didn't want to know what they were. I kept pushing forward, down two more floors. I grabbed the gate at the bottom of the seventeenth floor staircase, yanked it open and slipped through before I pushed it closed behind me.

“Alright Stark. I'm on the seventeenth floor.”

“Remember: find the elevator, four doors on the left.”

“I found it, there's light spilling out from beneath the door.” I informed him, peeking around the corner, pressing my shoulder against the wall. I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the roil of my stomach.

“I'm on standby if you need me, Bane.” I nodded, though realized it was stupid because it wasn't as if Tony could see me nod.

“Roger that.” I replied in a whisper before our comm channel went silent once more. Without Tony's comforting and relentless chatter I became aware of my heartbeat loud in my ears, at my breath which sounded ten times louder than it should have as I approached the door, grabbed the handle and felt it give way beneath my touch. The door opened and I slipped over the threshold and into the small apartment complex. It was surprisingly clean, the backpack Bucky had stolen from Stark's jet resting against the wall, easy to grab for a quick getaway, his sniper rifle propped against the wall beside it. I moved carefully, holding my breath as he exited the bathroom, steam roiling out of the open door. He made no noise as he moved quickly towards me, his metal hand wrapping tight around my throat, the pain that radiated up my spine as he slammed me back against the wall, his teeth bared in an animalistic gesture.

I gasped around the vibranium fingers wrapped tightly around my throat.

“Gemma?” His voice was hoarse from disuse, his tone choked as he dropped his hold on me and I collapsed against him, one hand gripping his flesh arm to stabilize myself from falling into him completely, the other rubbing at my throat. I gasped and coughed. “I'm sorry I thought-”

“I was HYDRA?” I managed, clearing my throat, still feeling the echo of his fingers around my throat.

“God,” He groaned, supporting me. “I almost killed you.” His tone was horrified, self depreciating and I cleared my throat again.

“The important part is that you didn't.” I assured him that I wasn't mad. I hadn't expected him to recognize me at all and the fact that he was Bucky and not Winter was reassuring. I stood, grateful that he was supporting me, though I noted he kept his vibranium arm tightly at his side. He looked like he hadn't shaved in a few weeks and his hair was longer than I remembered it being last I'd seen him. He looked up at me through his lashes, his dark hair framing his face, his steel blue eyes as stunning as I remembered, full of pain and fury and joy. They were hard but as he affirmed that I was actually there they became tender and sparked with something.

The reason I was here was not a jovial one but I was selfish in that for a second I allowed myself this moment with Bucky, the wordless exchange between our eyes.

“Bucky.” I murmured relieved to see that he was alive, that he was _young_ and just as strong as I remembered, if not stronger. His tight fitting storm grey tee-shirt showed off his defined muscles, his black cargo pants hung loose around his hips, not yet secured by the belt he wore. My mouth went as dry as sand paper and before I could stop myself, before I could rationalize that he might take it as a hostile movement I had leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. My fingers tangled in his wet hair as my body curved into and against his, guided by his large hand against the small of my back as he responded to my kiss, his facial hair scratching against my chin. I pulled back for a breath and he moved back in, capturing my lips in an impatient kiss. Under the heated barrage of his kiss it was easy to forget why I was even here in the first place, willing to let him take it where he wanted it to go, making up for the lost time for kisses over the past six months. Expect Stark made a noise on the other side of the earpiece, slamming me back to reality, surprised to find that I was pressed against the wall by Bucky's hips pressed flushed against mine, his lips leaving a hot trail along my collarbone.

My cheeks flushed red as I struggled with whether I felt more embarrassed or guilty. “Bucky.” I gasped as he nipped at my collarbone, biting my lower lip. “Bucky please, there's something I have to tell you and it's urgent.” I insisted, taking a deep breath as he stopped his delicious torture and met my gaze evenly, reaching out, tentatively first with his vibranium arm to brush some of my hair back from my face. “It's Steve.” I tried to swallow the lump of emotion that had lodged itself in my throat. “Something went wrong with his super soldier serum,” I had to look away from the intense look on Bucky's face and eyes: a mixture of anger and equal parts pain. “He's began to age. Rapidly. He...he doesn't have long Bucky. He wants you to go back to Stark Tower. He says he has something he needs to tell you and insisted that it was a matter of utmost importance.” I hated myself for having to be the one to tell Bucky, whose face twisted as if I'd just stabbed him in the heart.

“Steve.” He choked and his lips trembled as the realization that I'd just told him his best friend was dying sunk in. He made a noise like a wounded animal and took a step back from me, turned abruptly on his heel, grabbed his belongings – a few tattered notebooks he must have found to keep writing things he remembered down, I assumed - shoved them roughly in the bag before he shouldered it, grabbed his sniper rifle and glimpsed as me from over his shoulder where I still stood still against the wall, struggling to swallow the lump of emotion in my throat. “Let's go.” He commanded me gruffly.

“I'm going back to the roof. I've got a ride. Stark built me a suit and came with me. Do you still have his jet?” I asked.

“Yes. I'll meet you at Stark Tower.” He told me emotionless, before he left the room and I hurried after him. “Destroy the generator on your way out.” Was Bucky's parting words to me before we went our separate ways.

“Bane, I've got sights on Barnes in my jet.”

“He said he'd meet us back at Stark Tower. I'm on my way back up to the roof. He said to destroy the generator.”

“Hurry up Bane, let's get out of dodge.” I hurried onto the roof and fit myself into the suit, taking a deep breath as it closed around me, the thrusters pulsing as FRIDAY lifted me into the air. Tony shot the generator with exploded in cloud of flame and smoke and we were off the way we came: following after the Stark Industries jet which took point.

 


	11. Chapter 11

When we arrived back in Stark Tower I hugged Tony goodbye, thanking him for what he'd done for me, Bucky and Steve, and apologizing for any trouble I might have brought him with Fury. He shrugged that part off in typical Tony fashion, not too concerned about it. I wish that I shared his ease and sediment but I turned that worry away, compartmentalizing it for another time. Right now, I had to get Bucky to Steve. I drew in a deep breath as I called the elevator and stepped inside, looking up from the black combat boots my gaze had settled on to Bucky's face. He leaned against the elevator, his hands gripping the railing. Though the gesture of leaning was one of ease, I could tell from the tension in his shoulders and the hard glint in his eyes that, that wasn't the case. Silently, I turned my back to him, physically more aware of him than I should have been as I pressed the button for the medical ward of the tower. The doors slid closed and the elevator began it's descent.

“Are you staying?” I asked Bucky, taking a deep breath through my nose, my voice sounding weird to me as it left my lips. I didn't turn around to look at him, didn't move from where I stood in front of the elevator's panel.

He didn't answer right away. “I don't know,” Bucky responded gruffly, eventually. I swallowed thickly, unable to help the fact that his admittance _hurt_. That I wasn't enough to make him stay – even though we'd never actually clarified what we were to each other, or what we were in general aside from work partners. I remembered the kiss we'd shared in Romania, my cheeks flushing pink with heat as I thought about where it would have went if Stark wouldn't have interrupted. Was it just physical attraction to him? Did my feelings of love go un-reciprocated? I wanted to ask as much as I didn't but this wasn't the time and I knew that. The truth was that it wasn't me that had made Bucky come back: it was Steve – as it should have been. They'd been best friends since they were young boys. Or at least, that was how the stories had went. More than best friends, they'd became brothers by bond and later in arms. As Steve told it, Bucky had always looked out for him, was everything a big brother was supposed to be.

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open and I exited it, aware of Bucky's presence at my side even though I didn't dare look at him. He stopped suddenly as we passed the windows that showed into Steve's room.

“Steve.” It was a heartbreaking thing to hear the thick and choked whisper of his best friend's name leave Bucky's lips as he got his first look at Steve since the six months they'd been apart. His vibranium wrist and hand ' _shinked_ ' as his hand curled into a fist.

“I was worried about you when I found out about Steve.” But Bucky was shaking his head, refusing to look at me, just staring into the room with a pained expression on his face that knocked my breath out of me.

“HYDRA injected me with a lot of serums, and their super soldier serum was different.” He rasped out and I nodded, looking away, to Steve in the bed.

“We should go in.” I suggested, placing my hand on the identification pad, stepping back and letting Bucky step in first as the doors slid open.

“Buck.” Steve said with a gasp that led to a coughing fit and I turned away as I watched Bucky kneel down beside the bed, reaching for Steve's hand with his flesh one, feeling like I was imposing on something that I shouldn't have been. I moved to the door, waiting for them to slide open for me so I could leave and give them privacy. “Gemma, please stay.” I closed my eyes against Steve's plea, as small as it was. I inhaled deeply, fighting against the hot tears that had formed in my eyes, lifting a finger to wipe them away quickly so that he might not realize I had begun to cry and turned back, finding both of the super soldiers staring at me. “Those better not be tears I see, Bane.” Steve scolded me playfully and I offered him a smile that did not touch my eyes as I neared the bed, kneeling down beside Bucky, placing my hand on Steve's shoulder, giving it a soft rub.

“You brought Bucky back, Gemma.”

“Stark helped me, believe it or not.”

Steve let out a soft laugh. “Stark's a good guy, he just needs a little push sometimes.”

“Bucky,” Steve turned his bright eyes to his best friend then and reached up to remove his oxygen mask.

“Steve, no.” Bucky reprimanded the younger man, his vibranium hand flashing out to gently lay against Steve's frail wrist.

“Buck, it's ok.” Steve reassured him, pulling the mask off and letting it fall to the side. Steve struggled for a moment and my throat and jaw worked to keep back the wave of tears that threatened to overtake me. This was hard to watch. I'd always handled death badly. Steve had accepted it with utmost grace, calmness even. “It's going to be ok, Bucky, I promise,” I hadn't realized that Bucky had started to cry until his shoulder rocked against mine with the jerking movements of someone trying to conceal their sobs. “Listen to me Buck,” Steve took a pained breath of air. “There needs to be a Captain America. There needs to be someone to pick up the shield, to take up the mantle, to fight for justice and freedom. The people _need_ and deserve for Captain to live on, and there isn't anyone I trust more to carry on the legacy than you, Buck.”

I felt my eyes widen, even as hot tears spilled down my cheeks.

“What?” The word was choked as it left Bucky's lips.

“Buck, you can do it. You can be Captain America.”

“Steve I...I can't-”

“I already talked to Fury. He agrees that Cap should live on, he told me the choice was mine. I want _you_ to take up the mantle.”

“Steve-”

“Bucky, you're everything that Cap is meant to embody. You're a _true_ hero. Fury's given you permission to reform the Howling Commandos, there isn't anyone more perfect to become Captain America.”

It was a weighty decision and no doubt a hard one for Bucky. To agree to become the monumental hero that was Captain America, but Steve had faith in him. A strong, resolute faith.

Bucky stood then, his vibranium hand on my shoulder, his flesh hand still lightly holding Steve's own. “I accept the honor that is the shield and all that being the Captain stands for. I promise I won't let you down, Steve.” Bucky's voice was heavy and thick with emotion but he looked down at Steve with such a tenderness that I had to look away.

“You better, you jerk.” Steve laughed himself into another violent coughing fit, causing Bucky's grip to tighten on my shoulder. I winced but said nothing, knowing that he hadn't meant it. It had been a reflex triggered by his concern for Steve. “And I know you're taking all the stupid with you, but if you love her, make sure you tell her everyday. Take her dancing, take her on dates. Don't let her go. Don't pass up a dance with the right partner.”

An amused snort left Bucky – a strange juxtaposition to the tears that rolled down his cheeks, leaving a glistening track in their wake. “So now _you're_ givin' me romantic advice? You're a punk Steven,” Bucky scolded him.

“I'm serious Buck.”

“I know you are. Don't you worry Steve, I know what I'm doing.” I was confused but pretended like I had stopped listening to their conversation as I stubbornly didn't want to follow along and try to make sense of it, unsure if they were talking about me – which would be rude since I was still there – or if they were just talking in general. Perhaps there was another girl that Steve was referencing.

Steve let out a rasping breath, his shoulder jerking violently under my touch and I hesitated unsure if I should remove it or keep it there. My lower lip trembled but I managed to mirror Steve's wide smile as he turned his eyes to him, raising my hand from his shoulder to smooth back his hair gently.

“Hey, you're gonna mess up my hair.” He jested and I licked my lips, tasting the salt of my tears.

“Shush, Steven.” I teased him, poking my tongue out at him.

“Hey, I'm sorry about that date you never got,” Steven coughed and I shook my head.

“It's alright,” I assured him, smoothing my fingers lightly over his hair again, as if he were a child.

“Bucky will just have to take you on a special date to make up for it.” I looked up at Bucky at that, surprised to see that he was looking down at me. I shifted my weight on my knees. Steve gasped again and, gripped Bucky's hand tightly, causing the muscles beneath his arm to pull taunt. “Looks like I've reached the end of the line, pal, thanks for being with me.” He took an uneven breath as the heart monitor began to slow.

“'Til the end of the line.” Bucky echoed.

“I can see Peggy, Buck. She's waiting for me.”

“Go to her, punk. You left her waiting long enough.” A soft laugh left Steve's lips before the heart monitor bleeped and flat-lined. I let out a pained whimper and my sobs hit me _hard_. I broke down, I was a mess and I'd just watched the first Captain America draw his last breath of life. I pressed my fist to my mouth, in fruitless attempt to stifle my sobs as the wracked from my body, pulling my hand back from his head, almost forgetting that Bucky was there until he was pulling me up and against him, his vibranium arm around me, his flesh hand cradling the back of my head, his lips pressed to the top of my head. I felt bad that he was the one comforting me when it should have been the other way around. Doctors rushed around us, acting as if we weren't even there, at first.

“I'm sorry but we need you to leave now.” One of the doctors tentatively approached us and I sniffled and pushed away from Bucky, swiping my sleeves at my ruined mascara.

“Of course, sorry.” I mumbled, moving out of the room as they announced the time of death. I didn't even question him as he led me to and through the lobby, hailed down a cab and let me get in, giving an address to the cab driver in a quiet tone.

 


End file.
